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For a few days now, my agent Ada has been trying to convince me to accept an assignment with Jane, a forty-nine year old career woman, the high profile CEO of a major business organisation. Most people, both men and women look on her as an incredibly formidable woman, especially people working for her.

I was familiar with her work history, turning a start up into a large, successful business, her divorce, numerous media stories and profiles, some of the stories not at all flattering. The constant rumours and innuendo about her sex life or lack of a sex life were fascinating for me and many others, men and women. Did Jane even have a sex life?

Every time I saw her on TV I wondered about her, fascinated that such an unattractive woman could achieve so much. At first glance she was close to ugly, with her dark hair parted down the middle, though as soon as she spoke, her confidence and charisma shone through. Her wonderful, dulcet voice and hard to place accent always so easy to listen to with her confident smile and persona. She was a little taller than average, slim, skinny almost to look at, always immaculately dressed in expensive designer clothing.

“I think Jane would be dynamite in bed. I don’t think you would be disappointed at all,” Ada told me over the phone while trying to convince me into a highly paid one night stand with her. Over time I had learnt Ada was invariably a good judge of her female clients and their sexual foibles and abilities. Why was Ada was taking far more interest in Jane than she normally does when arranging my assignments, I wondered?

I am Michael, in my late twenties, 72 inches tall, 168 pounds, a toned, fit body and genetically lucky to possess a large, thick cock, ten-inches when erect. I live in Sydney, Australia and used to moonlight as a gigolo or male escort.

That was before Ada asked me to work for her ‘exclusive agency’. “We have a wide ranging client list, males and females, and lots of constant work,” she told me while she auditioned me. “And we provide for some very kinky people, even famous people with lots of sexual fetishes.”

I quickly learnt Ada did have a niche clientele of older women who enjoy a one night stand. watching their toy boy, lover or husband giving a blowjob to a younger well hung gigolo after they have watched her fucking him. It can be incredibly exciting for me if the woman is actively participating, a three-way, even more exciting if the woman has a sexy persona and a good body.

Ada had asked me to meet her in the foyer of one of the major hotels at eight on Saturday night, when she would introduce me to Jane. A far different and unusual arrangement than in the past for my assignments. As always Ada was beautifully dressed and made up, turning heads when she arrived, in heels, and an above the knee, white designer coat, looking very sharp with killer heels and black stockings. “This is very exciting for me,” she smiled without any explanation.

Ada is still a most attractive woman; I can still recall her wonderful naked body from when she first auditioned me. And from the rare assignment we shared with another couple. A brunette size 12-14 voluptuous body,, good skin, wonderful legs, a big firm ass, C-cup tits with big nipples and closely shaved pubes.

“I think you will find Jane is a very exciting woman. We were lovers a while back and are still firm friends,” Ada started to tell me, before the conversation was cut short when Jane arrived, the center of attention as she strutted through the hotel foyer, exuding self confidence and sex appeal, in her oversize shades, with her long earrings, she was a standout.

Ada and me both admiring the way she wore her knee length black skirt, with a long slit up one side. Her dark colour, double breasted blazer had me gaping, lots of bare flesh on show, making it obvious she was almost flat chested and wasn’t wearing a bra underneath.

Jane was sitting between Ada and me. Ada kissing Jane by way of greeting, before Jane kissed me. After a few minutes of small talk, while the two women crossed and recrossed their legs for me, or was it for each other?, Jane asked, ”Shall we proceed?,” holding our hands, turning heads as she led us to the elevators.

I was looking at Jane in a completely different light in the elevator with her new hairdo. Ugly, definitely not. Attractive to both females and males? Definitely yes, as I watched her and Ada kissing, their hands all over each other. An exciting woman? At that moment, very exciting for both Ada and me. Fuckable, most definitely. She had my cock reacting already.

“Did I forget to tell you Jane wants to have us both?,” Ada asked after we settled inside Jane’s suite.

“None of my lady lovers has ever been as good as you Ada, not one of them, you even know some of them,” Jane told her as they were kissing passionately, while undressing each other.

As I looked at Jane in a new light, she looked very fuckable, deciding I must have her. She was obviously proud of her forty-years plus, slim, shapely, body, good hips, a tidy taut ass, no dimples, a tucked in waist, a flat stomach, and by contrast was almost flat chested, with sexy, already erect nipples, with a small trimmed black triangle over her long, sexy legs. Her naked body had already given me a full on erection. So sensual, so feline, so fuckable.

Ada still had the voluptuous body of the paramour she once was, wonderful ripe tits, forty-two inch hips, a magnificent big ass and the easy confidence of a successful business woman and a bi-sexual lover.

I had only ever seen Ada giving cunnilingus to another woman once, a tongue fuck to remember. I can still recall the occasion, she was dynamite, the center of attention, so good, so talented while the woman’s husband and me watched. There are still rumours circulating about Ada’s cunnilingus skills, and the men who were willing to pay her large sums of money to watch her pleasure their lovers and / or wives before she retired to concentrate on running her escort agency.

Ada had Jane and me in her thrall as she licked her clit, “You were always such a good lesbian fuck for me Jane and you still are, tell me what you want, exactly what you want.”

I do like a woman who can articulate her sexual needs and preferences, Jane was nailing it for me. The sound of Jane’s beautiful dulcet voice talking dirty to Ada, her lesbian lover was music to my ears, soaking in her every word.

“Your tongue on my clit Ada. Like that, just like that. So good. So fucking good. Lick me. I love it. Fuck my cunt with your tongue. Like you used to. I love it. Love it. Fuckamycunt, fuckamycunt, fuckamycunt.”

Watching Ada and Jane showering together afterwards was a voyeurs delight, Ada preparing Jane for me, teasing her with lesbian, bi-sexual foreplay, Jane holding my gaze, looking at my erection all the while.

I had never had an assignment quite like this one. Jane, the woman who had paid Ada my agent for me to make love her, to fuck her, while being seduced by Ada my agent, two exciting bi-sexual lesbian lovers with no sexual inhibitions whatsoever.

Jane was incredibly exciting for me, as I licked and sucked her nipples as foreplay while Ada watched. I had to satisfy my ass fetish, worship Jane’s ass, a wonderful, tidy taut ass, no dimples, lick and kiss it while Ada watched her clenching her ass cheeks for us both. Running my fingernails along her ass cheeks, almost hard enough to hurt her. Then pinch her ass, just lightly, then a little harder until she told me, “How did you know I would like that? Pleasure and pain, I love it. Some more, don’t stop.”

Kissing and licking Jane’s ass some more while Ada watched, nipping her ass with my teeth, leaving a small mark, without any complaint from her. Ada was tongue kissing Jane while I licked her clit, already so wet for me.

Ada and Jane were kissing softly as Ada watched me sliding my rock hard erection into Jane. She had obviously never had children, her wet cunt lips were so wonderfully tight around my erection.

Jane was so articulate for me, talking dirty to me in a loud whisper, deliberately loud enough for Ada to hear, telling me exactly what she wanted. A huge extra turn on for me from such a formidable woman. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me with your big ten-inch cock. All the way up to your balls. I love it. So does my cunt.

Jane was a sex machine for me, a formidable sex machine. Her formidable demeanour a huge challenge for me after my initial reticence. I couldn’t have enough of her. The reaction of my cock confirming how much I wanted to fuck her and keep on fucking her.

She was a magnificent fuck. How could I have possibly thought initially she was an unattractive woman, close to ugly, with her dark hair parted down the middle? Naked on the bed with my cock in her as far it would go while kissing with our tongues she was magnificent.

Her confidence and charisma shining through as I Iistened to her talking dirty to me and Ada in her wonderful, dulcet voice while fucking her slightly taller than average, slim body with her expensive designer clothing scattered over the floor.

A little over an hour later Jane was sucking my balls, then sucking my cock, while Ada watched. “I promised you Michael could get it up two or three times in a session Jane. Look at the size of his cock, he is already ten-inches for you, and so thick. Are you going to give him a head job? Yes? Would you like me to watch? Naked? Both of you?”

Ada was standing behind me naked, watching Jane, adding another dimension to my head job. Teasing my nipples, running ice cubes over them, pinching them, pleasure and pain for me, just as I had done to Jane.

The two women were so comfortable with each other. Ada talking to Jane while she watched her giving me fellatio, a wonderful head job from a forty-nine year old woman, her experience shining through as she teased and edged me. Edging me to the brink of orgasm, again and again before Ada and me watched her swallow.

A few weeks later the business media were running stories about the high profile CEO of a major business organisation which was subject to a takeover bid and follow up stories about a middle eastern company who wanted to take a major shareholding in the company.

The same day Ada phoned me to tell me, “Jane wants to meet you again. She also wants you to meet the negotiator for a middle-eastern company she is having talks with. Does Friday night work for you?”Friday night in the Hyatt did work for me. A luxurious suite on a high floor with wonderful views over the city.

“Hello Michael, I want you to meet Omar, his middle eastern company is interested in buying a major shareholding in my company. You know middle eastern business men always expect some inducements. I want you to be part of my inducement and help me with the negotiations and convince him to invest in my company.”

When I settled down and focused Jane looked magnificent. Stunning make up, heels, a short, black cocktail dress with slits up both sides almost up to her armpits, obviously naked underneath. So sensual, and feline for two much younger men to admire and lust after.

Omar, the middle eastern negotiator was an exotic looking man around twenty-five, wearing traditional Arab arttire, a sparkling white. tailor made thobe, the traditional long robe, the top cut like a shirt, ankle-length and loose without any head gear. A completely new and challenging situation for me.

“I promised Omar you were well hung,” Jane told me as he watched her undress me while standing in front of him while he was sitting on a high stool. I always enjoy showing a new male my naked body and large, flaccid cock while watching their reaction.

Omar’s reaction confirmed what Jane had arranged for him was to his liking as I posed hands on hips for him. “Oh wow,” Omar moaned and smiled as Jane used her fingers to give me an erection.

“I want to fuck you while Omar watches,” Jane told me in her wonderful sexy, dulcet voice, the fuck word had never sounded better. I was sitting on a chair facing Omar when Jane lowered herself onto my erection, my fingers teasing her ass as she used me. Deliberately teasing Omar, “You could be arrested and even worse in your country for watching a woman my age fucking a much younger man. Do you like watching us fucking? Yes?”

“Do you like the way I shaved my cunt for you Omar? Just a small trimmed black triangle over my long, sexy legs for you,” Jane asked as she reversed her position. Do you like watching Michael fucking me this way around. He has the biggest cock I have ever had in me. He is huge and so thick.

“I promised you I would organise a western man with a huge cock for your sexual pleasure Omar. You have probably guessed Michael is bi-sexual, he is looking forward to receiving a head job from you while I watch,” Jane told him as she slid up and down my erection while Omar watched with a noticeable tent under his white. tailor made thobe, So good, an Arab man younger than me, watching Jane using me before she used two hands to masturbate me to a climax for Omar while he watched, the look on his face priceless and full of lust.

A little later Omar was watching Jane and me showering with his sparkling white, tailor made thobe resting on his erection. My gender-fluid side was looking forward to the excitement of a head job from an Arab man, five years younger than me. Aware that it was part of Jane’s negotiating tactics to obtain a better price from Omar.

“You are a sex machine Michael, look how thick and hard your cock is again,” Jane told me as Omar watched her wrap my cock ring around my balls. I was thick and hard for both Omar and Jane.

“Your big cock is magnificent, just fucking magnificent,” Omar told me in perfect Oxford English as he teased and licked my balls before Jane watched him lick, kiss and suck my erection.

“You could be executed in your country for doing that to another man. Sucking his cock like that. Does that make it even more exciting for you Omar? Yes?”

Omar was good, incredibly good and obviously very experienced with more than half my erection sliding between his pursed lips. Jane was standing behind me, kissing me over my shoulder, grinding her pubes against my ass, whispering, “Make Omar work for it, make him want your big cock even more.

“Michael is a wonderful challenge for you Omar. Look how big and thick his cock is for you? Do you want him to ejaculate for you? I do. He does. But not until I tell him. Did I hear you correctly, five for forty-nine per cent? And I remain CEO? Yes?”

I had my hands behind my head, wanting to maximise my sexual pleasure while I climaxed for Omar, Jane and me kissing with our tongues as Omar edged me, my knees trembling as I ejaculated in great gobs. What a woman, what a blow job!

In the afterglow Omar told us his negotiation skills had led him to expect and enjoy what Jane had organised for him, a male to sexually pleasure. The offer of a female as a negotiating tool had become common place.

So exciting and challenging for him, Jane and me, when Omar risked death back home for the thrill of giving another man a head job.

A week later the business media were full of stories about the female entrepreneur who had sold forty-nine per cent of her company for five million to middle eastern oil interests and remain CEO,.speculating about her negotiation skills. Urging other companies to chase middle eastern oil money.

---

Experimentation Volume 3

Happiness filled my life in a way it never had before. No one had ever thought to treat me the way Mistress did every day. I was her slave; she owned me, yet Mistress often brought me breakfast in bed! She continued with my reading lessons, and I continued with her sex lessons. It was probably a result of the circumstances, but for the first time in my life, I realized that I was falling in love. Love was something that I’d never known, and I didn’t really know how to respond to it. The strange thing was that the situation was mutual; Mistress began to fall for me, and she didn’t really know what to do about it either. Mistress began to give me an allowance, in the fashion parents did with their offspring. I got fifty dollars a week, in cash; fifty dollars that I could spend on little luxuries for myself.

When Mistress took me home, on the first day, she told me that there was one wardrobe in the bedroom that was out of bounds for me. I wondered what was in it; in fact I was desperately curious to find out its contents, but I left it alone. It was two months until Mistress gave me permission to open the wardrobe, and I was quite surprised to see the contents. They weren’t exactly things a young lady was expected to keep in her bedroom. That wardrobe contained almost two dozen swords from around the world. I was immediately fascinated with the collection, and asked Mistress to teach me all about swords, and the cultures that created them.

After almost four months of mutual sexual pleasure with Mistress’, it was my thirty-third birthday, and on the morning of that day, Mistress gave me the first birthday card I’d ever received. The wording from Mistress was, ‘For my Princess; my companion and my friend. All my love, Mistress.’ Inside the card was a smaller envelope with no markings. I opened the envelope to find hundred dollar bills; ten of them, and I found myself speechless. No one had ever given me a noticeable amount of money before, and told me I spend it on whatever I liked. My first thought was to save my present and hope that Mistress gave me many more such presents. That way, I was sure I would be able to buy my sister’s freedom. Perhaps I could even buy my own eventually. Of course, being a slave meant that I couldn’t have a bank account to save the money in, so I asked Mistress if she would open an account for me, so that I could save my money easily. Naturally, she agreed, and I got my savings account in Mistress’ name. Then, whatever out of my allowance I didn’t spend, I saved for the future.

My first problem, of course, was that I had to find my sister. I didn’t know where she was, so I was obviously going to have considerable work ahead of me. However, she was my sister, and I wanted to help her.

My first thought was to ask my parents if they knew where my sister was. If I was lucky, she would still be where they were, and hopefully would stay there until I could save up enough money and try to convince her owner to sell her to Mistress. Again, being a slave meant that I could not have property, but if I gave Mistress the money, she could buy my sister, and free her for me. I would pay every dollar of her asking price, and more, if Mistress would do what I wanted. I knew that my father was able to read and write, so I typed a letter on Mistress’ computer, bought a book of stamps the next time Mistress asked me to go shopping, and sent it to my father, along with a supply of envelopes, paper, stamps and pens; just hoping he’d get the package. My luck was in, and my father received it. He replied to me, in considerable surprise at my literacy, and gave me some bad news. My sister had been sold a couple of years earlier, but he could give me the address of her owner, and he confirmed that she also could read and write, so would be able to reply to any letters she received, if she received them.

When I got the reply from my father, Mistress handed me the envelope with a smile on her face. “Never had post before, Princess?” she asked. I almost took Mistress’ fingers off, when I snatched the envelope from her hand and ripped it open. It was a fabulous feeling, reading my first ever letter, although the feeling didn’t last when I read the news it contained. It was clear to Mistress that I was upset, so she put an arm around my waist, and kissed me. “Need a new letter pack then, Princess?” she asked.
“Yes Mistress; I just hope she’ll be able to answer,” I replied.

Mistress supplied me with my pack of stationary and stamps and I wrote to my sister. She was every bit as surprised as my father at my newfound ability to write. She was an administrator, which required her to be literate, and she asked me what I did for my owner. What did I tell her? I asked Mistress for her opinion and she said that I should describe myself as a ‘domestic.’ All of what I did for Mistress would be classified as ‘domestic’ work, in as much as it was done inside her apartment. As long as my sister remained in her position, she was safe, and I could be content with knowing that, until the time arrived that I could try to free her from her life of slavery.

She and I traded letters intensively for months, and I kept her well supplied with letter writing materials, at Mistress’ expense. In that time, Christmas came and went, and the contents of my savings account tripled to more than three thousand dollars, and my bra increased by one cup size. I took Mistress by surprise by giving her a Christmas present bought from my allowance. I told my sister the story of my first trip to the fetish store with Mistress, and included the story of our second visit.

That was every bit as entertaining as the first time, and I could even read the writing on the products. Mistress had decided that she required a larger dildo for me to make love to her with. I knew we were going shopping, the way we usually did, but she didn’t have to tell me where we were going. The spiked collar around Mistress’ neck indicated that we were going to the fetish shop, and that I was again going to have to pretend to be Mistress’ owner.

As instructed by Mistress, I clipped on her leash just after we got out of the car, and I led her by it into the store. The response was much as predicted. “Hey, look who’s come back. It’s the lucky bitch with the fantastic bit of pussy! Are your tits bigger than the last time you were here?”
“Yes, I’ve been under the knife.”
“Thought so. You broke the little bit of pussy in properly, after you took her home, last time?”
“Given the price I paid for her, you’re damn straight I did! She’s a wonderful fuck, with such a lovely tight pussy. There are times I wonder how it might feel to be a man, and whenever I’d got my double-ended rubber prick buried clit-deep in her pussy, I do think like that. What would it feel like to be able to spunk in her cunt daily, I wonder? With tits like those to squeeze, I fuck her several times a day when I have the energy!” I had to laugh dirtily, like a letch, as I spoke; it was expected of me.
You gonna tell me what you paid for her, yet?”
“Due to favourable circumstances, I got her for the bargain price of thirty five grand!” I replied; even managing to sound as if I was gloating over my purchase. I suppose that if I had been in that position, I may well have gloated over what I’d gotten, at the price I supposedly got it for.
“Thirty five? Lucky cow! How did you achieve that feat?” I could sense the jealousy in her voice, and I was sure I could see it all over her face.
I pulled Mistress closer to me, and put my arms around her waist. “She’d been bought as a gift to her previous owner’s son, but for reasons unknown, he was still unable to get his prick solid enough to stick it in her. She was kept intact until he was going to be capable of fucking his present; he never got the chance. Financial trouble hit the family, and they needed money, fast. Coincidentally, I happened to hear about their troubles, and remembered the girl they’d bought for their son for when he overcame his limp prick problem, and made an offer for her. They needed a quick sale, and thirty five thousand in cash, was sufficient incentive for me to take ownership. I realize how lucky I was to get her so cheap, and I intend to take maximum advantage of that as often as I can.”
“I’d ask if you were willing to sell her to me, but in your place, I wouldn’t let that go any time soon either.”
“Not a chance, and you know it!”
“I can dream, can’t I?” She produced a business card, which she handed me, “In case you change your mind, or, however unlikely it is, eventually get bored with Miss. Tits, there. I’ll pay top dollar for her in either of those situations.”

I took the card, but I knew it wasn’t relevant; after all, I couldn’t sell what I didn’t own. Even if did own Mistress, I could never have sold her to the sort of pervert that room was full of; they wouldn’t have treated her the way I would have, and the way I already did. She treated me better than most, if not all, of the women in that room would have treated her. Some men didn’t treat their wives as well as Mistress treated her obedient, horny, blonde sex slave.

(For example, there was the time I’d come down with food poisoning. At the time, we didn’t know the cause of the condition, but I was ill; very much so. Mistress summoned a doctor to attend to me, and with the experiences I’d had, that was something I had not been expecting. No other owner had summoned a doctor for me, or for any other slave I’d ever known, yet Mistress didn’t bat an eyelid at the expense of the doctor, or the hospital visit she recommended. Mistress took me to A & E, and paid my bills. She even got all combative with the doctors who didn’t originally want to treat me because I had no medical history. It was beautifully done, and in a way I wouldn’t have dreamt of. Mistress told them that they had a responsibility to treat any sick person with the money to pay, and seeing as Mistress could pay for my treatment, they were obliged to treat me. She also threatened to sue the asses off them all if I didn’t survive the treatment. I was an expensive piece of property and she wanted me back in first class condition, ‘or fucking else!’ Mistress also commented that at home, she never restrained me, and if I complained about being chained up, or otherwise mistreated, there’d be absolute bloody hell to pay! She left me in hospital for three days, visiting twice a day on each of them, with flowers, chocolates and kisses. The bill for my treatment was half as much as my purchase price, yet Mistress paid it without hesitation because I was worth it! “It’s only money,” Mistress commented, when she signed the forms.)

During that visit, I was asked how I got such fine service from my girl. At first, no one there would believe that I’d never had to beat Mistress. I explained it very simply. “When I got her, she’d seen other slaves facing their punishments for infractions, and she knew what she could expect if she misbehaved. She didn’t misbehave, and at the end of the first week, I rewarded her with a shopping trip. That was before you first saw her, and before I first fucked her. I mastered treating a beautiful young woman, as what she was, and not mistreating her. I trained this one, with the carrot, rather than the stick, and it works. I get what I want, and I treat her like a lover! I give her fine clothes, and good food; and I make love her, making the experience as enjoyable for her as it is for me. And that, my new friends, is the way to get such service from a slave; it gives her an incentive to do what you want her to do. Give her treats and presents, and lots and lots of orgasms. She drives, too; she’s my chauffeur!”

******

When my reading and writing skills had reached high school standards, and after year and a bit, Mistress handed me an A4 envelope with the instruction to fill in the forms it contained. It was my application for a driving license. Everyone knew that slaves didn’t get to drive cars; it would just make it easier for them to escape from their owners. However, it wasn’t illegal to teach a slave to drive; it was just assumed that no owner would ever bother. I hadn’t expected that I would learn that skill either.

It took me a while, but I actually learned to drive, and was added to Mistress’ insurance policy. I had trouble with the local police on a couple of occasions, but Mistress got me out of trouble, and then, to avoid that sort of trouble, she bought me my own car. I got the car delivered on Mistress’ and my second anniversary. It had my name on its registration document. Mistress’ lawyer found a loophole in the property law, in that in the case of cars, the registered keeper isn’t necessarily the legal owner, which was why we got away with it. I knew nothing about the car until it got delivered, and I was asked to put my signature on the paperwork to confirm that it was mine. When Mistress told me that my car had arrived, I was stunned. When I saw it, I was even more stunned! I’d expected a little family compact, and when I laid eyes on a mint condition nineteen fifty seven Cadillac Eldorado convertible; all gleaming black pain, fins and chrome, I didn’t know what to do, or what to say. I didn’t even move to catch the keys, as Mistress threw them to me. She had to pick the keys up, put them in my right hand and wrap my fingers around them, before I seemed able to keep hold of them. Even then, I didn’t make any move towards the car until Mistress stood behind me and began to literally push me towards it. I saw the irony though; Mistress had given a five thousand dollar slave a car worth ten times her value; maybe more! I didn’t ask Mistress what she paid for the car; I just promised her that that I would be careful when I drove it.

When I finally got in the car, and Mistress had encouraged me to go out and burn some rubber, she also opened her purse and put her hand in it. I was surprised when she handed me a tazer and said, “Just in case some cunt tries to steal your nice new car.” Being a slave, I wasn’t allowed a gun, but the old laws had been written before the invention of the current generation of non-lethal defensive weapons, and the majority of them weren’t on the list of prohibited weapons for a slave. For example, Mace was a prohibited weapon for a slave, so Mistress gave me a can of corrosive oven cleaner instead. Nastier than Mace it might have been, but it was a domestic item, and therefore not illegal for a slave to have in her purse. Mistress’ lawyer eventually found a loophole in the law which allowed me to have a gun on my person, and not get arrested, and put to death for it. Laughable though it sounds to everyone, including myself and Mistress, I am legally Mistress’ personal bodyguard! We both know that a medal winning kick-boxing champion such as Mistress, would very easily, and very quickly kick seven shades of shit out of yours truly in a fair fight, but that single piece of paper showing me to be a licensed bodyguard, permits me to legally carry even a fully automatic firearm in a public place; just like Mistress.

******

After three years of service to Mistress, I’d almost forgotten that she’d bought me from my previous owner, for cash, and took me home, rather than met me in a gay club, charmed me, and made me want to go home with her at the end of the night for the obvious reason. I like to think that in that situation, I would have gone home with Mistress from that club.

In those three years I had been able to save almost eight thousand dollars towards my goal of freeing my sister from her bondage. I knew that a trained administrator wouldn’t be cheap to buy, and that the paltry eight thousand I had saved up, was going to be nowhere near enough. I’d need three or four times what I had, but figured that I had plenty of time to save up, because I didn’t see it likely that my sister’s owner would sell her any time soon, if she was any good at what she did.

In those three years, I had taught Mistress to make love like an old fashion courtesan, and she became very good at it. I think that over the same period, my own pleasure skills improved, too. At least Mistress thought that they did! It was on our third anniversary that Mistress gave me her third, and final, cherry. I’d thought that her pussy was tight, but when I first tried to push the smaller of our double-ended pricks up her ass, I realized that it was even tighter.

Mistress offered me her ass, and instructed me to fuck it. I had always given Mistress anything she wanted; in or out of the bedroom, and what she had just asked for would be no exception, but it would be different. While Mistress would get what she wanted, it would not be the way she wanted; well, not the first time anyway. Even the smallest of our toys would be too big for an orifice so tight. She got on all fours, sticking her ass in the air, and repeated the demand for what she wanted.

I settled down, off to one side of Mistress’ thighs, caressing, stroking and cupping those lovely firm young buttocks in my hands, while making sure that Mistress could hear my voice quietly. As my fingers explored the crevice in between her buttocks, she lifted her hips up off the bed, and I quickly pushed all six of our pillows underneath her belly to support her shapely body. As I lowered my head and began to run my tongue over her buttocks, she responded by reaching around with her hands and parting them to make it easier for me.

Mistress had the most delectable little asshole imaginable, and I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss it. Nor could I resist the urge to rim that lovely little anus, while slipping a couple of fingers into her pussy at the same time.

When I did that, she let out a little, low groan, of pure pleasure, and that just encouraged me to go a little further. I put my mouth to that tight ring and started to probe it with my tongue. After a couple of minutes, I reached into the drawer in the bedside cabinet, for my tube of KY and for the only item in my little collection of toys that I used on my own asshole on rare occasions back in Marseilles.

I applied the lubricant to her ring, smiling in pleasure at the low moan that the sensation elicited. She cried out as my fingertip slipped into her rear entrance, and she gave little gasps as I moved that finger around, probing and stretching her ringpiece, quickly adding a second finger, and then a third. Once the third finger was sliding in and out without a problem, it was time to go a step further. I lifted our one and only anal dildo from where I had put it on the pillow next to Mistress’ head, and very gently, I eased the tip of it into her asshole.

Mistress moaned as I moved the dildo in and out of her rectum, clearly enjoying what I was doing. I started to move it faster, in and out, and she thrust her hips up in time to my thrusts. After a while I stopped using the anal dildo, pulled it out of Mistress’ ass, and reached back into the bedside drawer for a conventional, vaginal, vibrator. I squeezed lube onto that, rubbed it in, and switched it on, before seeing if it would fit up Mistress’ ass. I didn’t force it in; I didn’t dare try to do that. It had to go in without too much pressure.

As I was gently trying to insert the large vibrator into Mistress’ tight little asshole, I asked her to, “Try and relax your little botty Mistress; this is quite large, but I’ll be gentle, I promise I will.”
“I’ll try,” she whispered back, and slowly the vibrator disappeared into her bum. Mistress groaned loudly as I started to push the vibrator up her adorable little bum. I began pushing it in harder, and she started gasping and panting, fingering her pussy as I did so. Mistress moved in time with my thrusts, pushing backwards and upwards with her pelvis, as I pushed down with the big vibrator, moaning, as the obscenely large piece of vibrating plastic disappeared within her slender little body, and the sight was just so beautiful.

I could tell that Mistress was just about ready to climax as I reached underneath her, pushing her hand away from her pussy, to tickle her clit. The resulting climax was just wonderful to behold. I’d heard her squeal in orgasm before, but that time, she simply screamed, as the climax overtook her, and seemed to go on for an inordinate amount of time.

Gasping for breath, those lovely tits still heaving, she rolled over to look up at me, face flushed red with her exertions, and looked up into my eyes. She said just three words to me, “Fucking wonderful babe,” and those simple words made my entire day. Mistress took me by surprise, yet again that night, by pointing at the double-ender we normally used and saying, “Use that on me next time, Princess, that way you’ll get some pleasure as well.”
“When’s ‘next time’,” I asked, hoping it wouldn’t be too long; the next night perhaps, or at least that same week.
“Right about now, babes,” was the answer, before Mistress rolled back over and positioned herself on all fours, pointing that delectable little bottom right at me; both of her holes still glistening with different types of lubricant. What could a woman do at a moment like that, except what her Mistress asked?

I knelt there for a few seconds, just looking at her bottom, before she began to get impatient. She took me by surprise by turning very serious and looking right into my eyes. “Princess”, she said, in her most stern voice, “when I tell you to vigorously nail me up the ass like a proper little cheap whore, I don’t mean kneel there and drool like a baby at the prospect. You and I both know that you’ve wanted to bugger me witless since the first time you pushed a large piece of latex rubber up my pussy, and now is your chance. I mean, grab the dildo and do what I demand; and I am demanding to be buggered witless.

I’ve done it to you so many times, and I’ll admit that I enjoy buggering you, so tonight, I’ll take it the same way if you’d like me to. You’ve earned it so many times over by now, and it’s overdue that I repay the pleasure. How could I love you so much, and not give you the odd little thing that I know would make you so happy? You will be gentle with me though, won’t you?” Despite the words, it wasn’t a question! I had wanted to do my Mistress in the ass, for a considerable while, but I hadn’t realized just how transparent I was with my wants. I hadn’t mentioned it to Mistress, and never would have, but once the offer was made, I was going to take it.
“I’ll be as gentle as you like, Mistress, I swear I will be. You already know that I will, or you wouldn’t have offered me this gorgeous little peach.”

“In that case my big Princess, now’s your one chance to convert me to your way of thinking; on the all-important subject of ass fucking, anyway. I feel brave enough to let you shove your rubber cock up mine, tonight; the way you’ve wanted to do for a while; but if you don’t do it now, you may not get another chance. If I don’t get my pleasure now, I may not find the nerve to ask again, and you’ll have blown your chance.” She changed her position ever so slightly, pointed at her bum with one finger and said, “Ass… fuck… right now…you beautiful, dirty blonde cow!”
I grabbed our double-ended dildo and said, “Yes Mistress, whatever you demand!”

I did what she demanded of me, and I was still a little nervous as I knelt behind her and placed the tip of the double-ender at her rectum before very slowly, and very gently, pushing it in, all the way to where my pubes would have been, as Mistress encouraged me. “That’s it Princess, shove it in nice and deep. Bugger your randy little Mistress rigid, the way you’ve been dreaming about since the first day you pulled my knickers down to my ankles and I watched as I stepped out of them. I can take it all the way, just like you can.”

The feeling of pushing the double-ender up Mistress’ ass was wonderful; her ass was even tighter than her pussy, and when I had the toy as deep as it would go, and was pressing the front of my thighs against the back of her own, I held still, and reached forward to gently cup Mistress’ big tits in both of my hands. Then I asked her if she felt ok with what was happening. She nodded, and said, “Continue with the big rubber cock, Princess, and make me squeal!”

Following the very clear instruction I had received, I began working the dildo back and forth slowly, in short thrusts, and gradually extending the length of the thrusts, while keeping them soft and gentle. I knew, right from the start, that Mistress was enjoying anal sex, and I was quite proud of myself for giving the woman I loved the pleasure she wanted. I was gentle with her, as I should be; only becoming vigorous when asked to be, or more accurately when it was demanded of me that I be more vigorous, and that I thrust a little harder. That was the moment when I realized just how tight Mistress’ asshole really was. I don’t suppose that my own was any less tight, the first time I got fucked up it, but my memory of that instance was of the pain I endured from it, and the way I cried and begged for my Master to stop hurting me. Needless to say, the bastard did no such thing; he simply pulled my hair harder, and told me to shut up.

As I held my position with my legs pressed up against Mistress’ legs, and felt her wiggle her hips, I knew it was time to do what she wanted, and slowly pulled the rubber prick out of her asshole, in preparation to push it back in again. I knew I was going to have to be very gentle with my Mistress, and her virgin ass. She was right when she asserted that I’d wanted to do that for a long time, although not as long as she thought. The day I first pulled her lace panties down and got a good look at her considerable bush, I was more concerned about making sure that she was willing to keep it out where I could get at it. Doing her up her lovely peachy ass didn’t enter my mind. It was an idea that I didn’t have until much later, and we were watching one of her newest porn films. I had Mistress on all fours on the living room floor; skirt up around her waist, panties around her ankles, and three fingers knuckle deep in her pussy as I stroked her clit and talked dirty to her. We were watching a particular scene where one woman was vigorously doing another woman in the ass with a big double-ended dildo, and I was sure that Mistress’ pussy was getting wetter and literally pulsating around my invading fingers as she watched the big rubber prick being pushed into a greased-up ass in front of the camera, while the owner of the ass moaned loudly.

******

Then there was Mistress’ third trip to the fetish shop, in her spiked collar. She wanted to take her role-playing in that store to the next stage, presumably in one of the rooms on the upper floor. I wasn’t quite sure how it would work out, but, as was always the case, what Mistress wanted, Mistress got! She dressed herself like a fifty dollar whore, put on the collar and gave me the leash. Mistress chose to return to the store on the same day, and at roughly the same time as the previous two occasions, hoping that the same women would be in the store, as the last two occasions.

They’d been green-eyed before, and she wanted to make them even worse. There were ways of doing that, as long as she had the nerve to go through with a performance on a bed in one of the rooms, and I wasn’t entirely sure if she would, or not. After all, I was the only woman she’d shown herself to, and I doubted her willingness to take her clothes off in front of many other women. Of course, everything depended on one of the other women creating a situation where Mistress could get her wish without being seen to be offering herself on a plate. She couldn’t offer, and being the jealous owner type, I wouldn’t either. We’d have to be seen to have been maneuvered into having Mistress perform on another woman.

My part was going to be quite difficult to get exactly right; I had to get Mistress the sort of woman she wanted to play with, while making it all appear to be completely unplanned. A lot of it was going to have to come from my instinct once things began. I knew Mistress’ taste in women; I’d had plenty of time to judge what got her nipples to stand to attention and her pussy to get wet. Her taste in women tended to run, mainly, to those like herself; small-boned and petite, with a large, round ass and big, firm tits. Facial features weren’t so important, though; big tits were far more important than a pretty face. Now, I knew she wouldn’t want to be made to service another Mistress; she’d want to give a little pleasure to a slave who may not have had a great deal of it recently.

Mistress’ idea worked out quite well. When I led her through the doorway, on her leash, in her sexy outfit, we got a round of applause. There were several familiar faces; all women who seemed to spend a considerable amount of time in the store, along with their girls. While a couple of them had men on leashes, most had young women in tow. Running on my instinct, despite my initial surprise, it only took me about five seconds to guess which set of panties Mistress was going to want to get into. The girl was of mixed race; uncommon in the day. She was in her early teens, standing about four feet ten inches tall, with an ass like a peach and tits like watermelons; just Mistress’ type! Her skin color didn’t matter too much, or at least I didn’t think it would. To look at her, I was a little curious about her parentage. If she’d been born in America, then the black half of her parentage would have to have been slave stock, but what about the white half? Was the other half also slave stock, unable to find a white slave to marry, or a member of the Master’s family; probably one of his sons.

Master himself probably wouldn’t have bothered with a Negro woman, but a horny son with no girlfriend just might have. For a teenage boy, pussy was pussy, and waiting until she reached eighteen often wouldn’t feature in his plans! Sons of rich families often forced themselves onto young, often pre-teen, slave girls, because they were too young to have sex with free women. While it was technically illegal to have sex with any underage girl, even a slave, the cops tended not to give a damn. Usually the illegitimate child would end up in the slave compound because its father didn’t give a damn. After all, he’d already gotten what he wanted, and the kid was often just an embarrassing reminder of how desperate he had been to get himself some pussy. I’d seen it happen with my own eyes. In some households, slaves could do what they liked to one another, as long as it didn’t interfere with the duties they had to carry out for their owners, and if that included the big slave raping any and all of the cute female slaves, strictly according to rota, then who gave a flying fuck? In other households, slaves were required to treat each other the way the owning family treated each other. In my household, if a slave man wanted to fuck a slave woman, he had to get her permission first. Just as a child, I saw the effects of not doing so. He was in his late twenties, stood about two meters twenty, and was built like an ox. The young woman didn’t stand a chance of fighting him off. He was a new purchase and didn’t understand the rules of his new household. A hundred strokes of the lash, and eight hours staked out in the burning sun, taught him the error of his ways, and he never did anything like it again.

I had heard stories whilst in the slave compound of other ways a mixed race child could be conceived. One woman told us all her horror story. Her owner liked live sex shows that he could watch along with his guests. Those shows usually had but one theme, her, and often one or two other white women, being repeatedly raped by several male black slaves, to the cheers of the audience. She’d had three babies to the other slaves, and as soon as those children had been weaned off milk, they were sold off. That was the one thing a slave owner could get into huge amounts of trouble for doing! Whipping an adult slave to death was quite acceptable; yet selling a child of under thirteen could get an owner five to ten years in a jail cell, maybe more, depending on the age of the slave! No slave could be legally sold until he or she had reached thirteen years of age. That was to prevent babies being sold to pedophiles, as had happened in the past. Slaves or not, no baby should be subjected to that, and her owner had been caught breaking that law. All his slaves were confiscated by the state, and auctioned off, and he had been banned from ever buying any more. One of the other young women in the compound with us had been one of those babies and she added her horror story to the others. I realized, as I was listening to them, that my life could have been far worse than it actually was.

Anyway, it was time to manipulate the women in that room, so that Mistress got what she wanted. The outfit was to begin the conversation, and I was to steer it in the direction Mistress wished. Her plan was fine. “Well then, lucky bitch…you’re still hanging on to Miss. Tits, I see. Don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind on parting with her yet?” The same woman who had asked to buy Mistress the first time, was clearly still intending to buy her from me.

I didn’t even see fit to answer the question; mainly because I thought that silence would serve me better than any choice of words. “Didn’t think so. What does she do for you that no other girl could do?”
“She serves me well in the bedroom, like no one else I ever owned. She knew nothing when I bought her, and I taught her personally. Could I buy better? Could your girl do better than mine” I challenged.
“Seems like we need a comparison here! Would you permit your bitch to give a demonstration on one of us?” she asked. Bait taken then!!!
“Well, Princess?” I asked Mistress. “Would you care to demonstrate your talents on one of the women in this room?”
“Can I pick my own partner Mistress, please?” Mistress asked me.
“Anyone have an objection to my girl picking her own demonstration partner?” I asked the room in general.
“No,” was the standard answer from those who voiced an answer. “Bingo, Mistress; you’ve just got your girl,” I thought to myself. “Time to see if I read you as well as I think I can.”

Mistress looked around the room and walked towards the girl I expected she would go for. Seeing as she was still on her leash, I had to follow her. “I’d like this girl, Mistress, if that’s ok,” she said. I looked at the girl’s owner, and she nodded her head. Mistress had got her busty piece of teenage pussy!
“I’ll allow a basic demonstration down here, but any more than that, and she,” I pointed to the woman who had requested the demo, “can pay for the necessary room upstairs.”
“Agreed, just as long as I get a bedside seat,” she replied. “Oh, Mistress” I thought, “this is going to be fun.”

Mistress took the girl’s hands in her own and asked, “What is your name, young lady, mine is Jennie.” I knew that Mistress’ first name was Erika, and I just ignored the lie.
“Abigail,” replied a young woman with a smile on her face at being addressed in such a pleasant manner.
“Well then Abigail, will you allow me to make love to you?”
“Yes, Jennie; if Mistress wants me to.” She turned to her owner and asked for permission. That permission, of course, was immediately forthcoming. Everyone wanted that demo’, and allowing her girl to be fucked by another girl was a small price to pay while I put my money where my mouth was.
“Mistress,” asked ‘Jennie’, “Where should I make love to Abigail; behind the empty counter?”
“It’s as good a place as any,” I replied, seeing as it was as good a place as any.

Mistress unclipped the leash from her collar, and did the same for Abigail. Then she led her behind the empty counter, as many of us leaned over to watch what was going to occur. “Lie down, sweetie,” instructed Mistress. Abigail lay down on her back and Mistress parted her legs, before kneeling between them. We all watched as Mistress open Abigail’s sexy little top and began to tease her little nipples. The music had already been shut off, and we could all listen to the soft sounds of pleasure that Abigail was making. The expression on Abigail’s face told a complete story. I don’t think that her Mistress was a tenth as gentle with her as mine was with me. Abigail was smiling, whimpering and writhing, as Mistress fondled her nipples. After a few minutes, Mistress knelt upright and scooted backwards. She then lifted Abigail’s skirt and pulled down her panties. Poking out her tongue, she began to gently suck on Abigail’s clit and probe the inside of her pussy, at the same time as sticking her ass out. She was giving the body language equivalent of the words, “Here are my dildo holes ladies; does anyone want to play with them for me while I eat this under-age pussy?”

As Mistress munched on Abigail’s pussy, one of the audience members knelt down behind her, and looked up at me; clearly she’d recognized the gesture, and was the first one to work up the nerve to interfere. She raised her eyebrows in a questioning gesture, and I nodded my head. She quickly lifted Mistress’ short skirt to reveal the surprising fact that she hadn’t bothered to put panties on before we came out. I didn’t even know that she hadn’t put any on. “She’s got no panties on!” she announced very loudly. Running a hand under Mistress’ crotch, she brought it out and showed everyone that it was wet. She licked Mistress’ juice off her hand, and put it back where it had come from. After which she began to softly finger Mistress’ tight pussy. I was surprised when she released her grip on her girl’s leash and told her to, “Go and please Miss. Tits’s owner, and keep her sweet!” For the first time in my life, I was going to have a slave girl treating me like a genuine Mistress. I could get her to do anything I reasonably wanted, in order to be pleasured! She walked up to me and asked, “What can I do for you, to give you pleasure, Mistress?”
What indeed? “I want what your Mistress is doing to my girl,” I replied, as I leaned over the counter and stuck my ass out. The girl reached up my skirt and pulled down my panties, allowing me to step out of them. What surprised me most was the fact that I recognized feeling within myself; feelings of jealousy! Despite the fact that I had a teenage girl with her hands up my skirt, I was jealous of the woman who was crouching behind my Mistress and had fingers in her pussy. She was my owner, so what right did I have to be jealous of anything she did, or anything she got? While I wanted to keep that young, fit, body all to myself, I shouldn’t have expected Mistress to be faithful to her slave. The funny thing was that I did expect Mistress to be faithful to me, even though I knew I shouldn’t. After all, Mistress had told me that she loved me, and everyone knew that lovers should be faithful to each other. I suppose, however, that the teenage hands wandering around my ass and pussy were indications that I also was in the process of being unfaithful to the woman I loved, and I wondered if Mistress would feel as jealous of me, as I was of her. However, to judge by what Mistress was doing, I doubted that she’d even see what I was doing, let alone be feeling anything but the pussy on her tongue and the fingers in her own pussy. Hopefully, I also wouldn’t be feeling much more than the fingers in my pussy quite soon.

I felt the touch of the slave girl’s fingers around my crotch, and the unmistakable sensation of the application of artificial lubrication being applied to my pussy lips. Then she slipped the first finger inside me, and as I hoped, my jealousy began to fade as my pleasure began to take over. In a way it was a strange feeling, as the girl giving me pleasure wanted none in return. She didn’t expect to gain anything out of what was happening, and concentrated purely on my pleasure. Despite merely being in her teens, the so far unnamed girl was pretty good at what she did. Her fingers were stimulating my sensitive spots like a professional; as I did for my Mistress. My first thought, after that one, was to offer the girl the same in return, but that probably wouldn’t suit my role.

Anyway, as I enjoyed the sensation in my loins, and listened to Mistress vocalizing her pleasure through Abigail’s pussy, I noticed that everyone in the room was looking down at the three women on the floor. Mentally, I compared the shy, reserved and innocent young woman I had to encourage to show me her pussy, in order to show her what my fingers and tongue could do to it, to the dirty little lesbo slut on the sex shop floor, being fingered by a complete stranger, and eating out another complete stranger. How my beautiful, shy, little Mistress had changed since that first night! I wondered how far Mistress was prepared to go, that day, but I figured that after she’d worked up the courage, she’d go all the way with the woman kneeling behind her. In a way, she was going to discover how the other half lived, because the woman was not going to treat her in quite the same way I did. Mistress wouldn’t be hurt, because that was property damage, and the penalties could be severe if the other woman willfully damaged my property. Injuring another owner’s slave was equal to damaging her car, or breaking the windows of her house. In America, a slave was a valuable piece of property, and prison sentences had been known to be handed out to people who intentionally injured them. Another question I asked myself was ‘did I want to watch Mistress be fucked?’ I decided that I did. I had a gun in my purse, and I thought it likely that I‘d be the only person in the room, apart from Mistress, who did. (Getting a permit to buy a gun wasn’t exactly easy, and getting one to allow you to carry it concealed was much more difficult. The articles of Confederation originally allowed a citizen to carry whatever the hell he damn-well pleased. Times, of course, had changed considerably. The much revised articles from the nineteen twenties put very strict limits on what a citizen could own, and that hadn’t changed much in the following hundred years. While you could own a rifle, it had to be manual operation. Machine pistols were only allowed by special permit, and Mistress and I both had those permits.) I intended to make sure that Mistress was not mistreated, with force if need be.

---

The requsted sequel to Meeting Mistress

We were both worried. It was late ‘43 and the war was going badly for Mistress’ side. The Anglo-Americans had evicted the Desert Fox from Africa and had invaded Italy, and were slowly working their way up towards the northern border. The German army in Russia was in a retreat that only a fool couldn’t see was going to be fatal. The French Resistance movement was becoming far better organized and equipped. They were also becoming much bolder, as it became clear that the Germans weren’t going to win the war. Mistress and I were both wondering what we’d do when France was liberated, and Mistress had to return to Germany or be taken prisoner and shipped to England as a prisoner of war. Either way, I’d be very lucky to ever see my lover again. Suddenly, without any warning, a machine pistol appeared in Mistress’ bedroom, indicating that she was worried. It was rare that I ever saw that M.P., though; it was covered by a folded bed sheet, on a chair at Mistress’ side of the big bed.

I had never liked guns, which was why I’d volunteered to be a pianist, but I knew that there was a chance we might need that machine pistol in the near future. I’d been trained by S.O.E. to handle weapons, so when Mistress handed me a pistol for self protection, she didn’t need to instruct me on how to use it. I didn’t ask where the pistol came from; it probably came out of the stores where Mistress worked, which meant that she must have stolen it for me. If it hadn’t been so serious, it would have been funny; I’d worked for Mistress’ enemy, had been captured and interrogated, and Mistress had given me a gun to protect myself from my fellow countrymen, because we didn’t know what would happen if they got hold of me, and knew what I was.

I couldn’t realistically go home to my parents, at least not in the condition I was in, and I knew that. My neighbors would have been aware of the fact that I got lifted by the enemy, more than two years earlier, and why. What was I going to tell them when I suddenly turned up after something approaching three years, well fed, well dressed, and in good health? They’d know what I’d been up to! They’d know that I’d been some German’s ‘piece of meat,’ for the previous three years, and I would likely be treated accordingly. I’d have needed time to alter my appearance; i.e. lose at least twenty pounds, look far less healthy, and acquire lower quality, wartime clothes!

My parents would have heard about what happened to me, and what could I tell them? Worse than that though, I’d have been separated from Mistress; and because I loved Mistress, and Mistress loved me, we didn’t want to be separated. I looked back at the frightened young woman of twenty two that I had been, lying on a straw pallet in a cold, dirty cell, with, as Mistress put it so bluntly, ‘piss-wet panties,’ shivering in a mix of fear and cold; but mainly fear, wondering about what was to come in the very near future. Then I compared her to what I had become, and I resolved that I would rather die than give up what I had become, and what I had acquired. I had blossomed into a woman and had fallen in love with another woman, and despite the social stigma that a same sex relationship carried in those days, I wanted to continue that relationship despite all of the potential problems. I wanted to stay with the woman I loved, and continue to make love to her.

I’d have been marked out as a collaborator, and had I been captured by my own side, my fate would have been uncertain. Would I have been given a long prison sentence for what was little better than treason, despite my lack of options, or would I have been put up against a wall and shot? I don’t suppose that a plea from me that I’d had no other choice to avoid a death-camp would have done me much good. Perhaps if Mistress felt the same way, she and I would conclude a suicide pact; because we’d have had little worth living for, if we were forcibly separated. I wouldn’t have wanted to see Mistress put in a prison camp, with a long sentence for war-crimes, where I couldn’t visit, to assure her of my love. I wouldn’t even have been able to write to her without arousing too much suspicion.

Maybe my mother could convince my father to forgive me, due to the alternative to what I faced, and perhaps, with some fake documents from her office, Mistress could pass herself off as being from Alsace, or Lorraine, explaining the unusual accent, because her spoken French was every bit as good as mine. If so, perhaps I could take Mistress to my parents’ home with me, and introduce her as a friend from the prison the Germans threw me into, without my father shooting her the moment we walked in the door. We’d have to create a French background for her, but if there was no option, I’m sure we could have done that. Failing that, maybe she could be introduced as a dissident German from the same prison. Of course I was assuming that my father wouldn’t have shot me as a collaborator when I walked in the door, too. To make matters even more complicated, how could I tell an old-fashioned couple like my parents that at twenty two, I had become Mistress’ fifth lover, and she became my first? How could I tell them that I had given her my virginity as payment for her saving my life? My mother might have understood, but my father never would!

Christmas came and went, and the signs of an impending invasion were becoming more and more apparent. The strange thing was that more we worried about what the future held for our illicit relationship, the more Mistress made love to me, as if she was giving all she could, in fear of not being able to give any more, soon. What made a bad situation even worse was that Mistress had been promoted to lieutenant colonel and been given more responsibilities, and therefore ended up spending even more time out of her billet, and I missed her so much that I took to crying myself to sleep on many nights, after I’d used one of Mistress’ toys to pleasure myself. I wasn’t used to having to pleasure myself; Mistress always did that for me!

Mistress’ first really long trip away was a surprise to her, and she couldn’t give me any warning that I was going to be left alone. It took two days before I got notification of the situation from Mistress’ pet guard. He posted a note through the letterbox, addressed to me, by name, which was how I knew I could trust him. The note said that he’d be back after dark, (at the rear door so as not to draw attention,) and asked me to give him some of Mistress’ money when he arrived, along with her ration coupons, to go and get supplies for me. Mistress was going to be away for between a week and ten days, so I was going to need food providing for me, because the contents of Mistress’ kitchen cupboards wouldn’t last me that long. A bribe of a month’s pay for a private, and the approval for promotion, had been offered for services rendered, and Mistress had issued dire threats of what would happen to him if she returned home to find out that her pretty concubine had missed out on even one meal because he hadn’t looked out for me. I didn’t ask about the dire threats, and when she returned home, Mistress didn’t volunteer any details of them, so while I wondered about them, I never found out. The worst thing about Mistress’ nights away was that I couldn’t have a fire in the hearth because the smoke would give away my presence, so nights tended to be cold in the winter.

I spent nine successive nights alone, and I hated every one of them. The bed was comfortable and there was plenty of room in it, but I was accustomed to being able to cuddle up to Mistress while I was in it with her. I liked cuddling up to Mistress when she was naked, grinding my nipples against hers, and tasting her lips, (both sets of them)! Nine nights of misery, loneliness and tears, and the moment I laid eyes on Mistress was what seemed to make that day into the best of my entire life. When Mistress got in the door to the house, she was literally all over me like a rash, and it was exactly where I wanted her. Mistress had her hands inside my blouse and her tongue in my mouth before she’d even opened the belt on her greatcoat, and the feeling was fantastic!

Then the shit really hit the fan; D-Day arrived! The British and Americans landed in Normandy, and began the second front. That left Mistress and I in a very awkward position. The life we knew was going to be over very soon, and we didn’t know what to do about it. We couldn’t stay the way we were, where we were. We couldn’t leave together either. Nor would Mistress be able to stay with me in Paris when it was liberated.

I knew that Mistress had grandparents in Paris, so I suggested that with her accent she could stay with them, and try to pass herself off as a Frenchwoman. Her reply kind of killed off that idea. She tapped the twin lightning flash insignia on her jacket collar and said, “After what I’ve done, I’ll be hanging from a lamp post within an hour of this city being liberated, and if I’m lucky, I’ll still have my knickers on, and I’ll be dead before the rope gets pulled tight, but I wouldn’t count on either of them!”

At the end of July, I got the shock of my life. That was the night that everything changed. Mistress came home late, with evidence that she’d been crying. She handed me an envelope and as I opened it and saw the forged identification papers that the Gestapo had taken from me the day I was arrested, I looked at Mistress, in complete shock. I thought that all of my documents had been destroyed. Mistress had given me my freedom, and I hadn’t even asked her for it.

“Why Mistress?” I asked. It was all I could think of to say.

“I won’t be able to protect you for much longer, so I might as well make sure that you can walk away from this city when the time comes.”

“I don’t want to walk away though, Mistress. I love you, and I want to stay with you!” I protested.

“There’s no staying, Princess. I’m going to get shipped back home quite soon, and I can’t take you with me. Do you have anywhere to go?”

“Probably not, but with these,” I indicated my I.D. papers, “I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something.”

“This should help,” said Mistress, handing me another envelope. I was staggered when I looked through the contents; more than a year’s pay for Mistress; in French francs. “If you had somewhere to go,would you take me with you?”

“You’d go with me, Mistress?” I asked in absolute shock. “What about your career?”

“Given a year or two, I’ll have no career! The war will be over, and due to these,” she tapped her collar flashes, “I’ll be either in a jail cell, or slammed up against a wall for what I’ve been forced to do in the name of duty! For the first time in my life, I’ve truly fallen in love, and I don’t want to lose you. You’re the closest thing to family that I’ve got. If I’ve got to throw away my career, and risk the firing squad for desertion, in order to keep you, I’ll take that risk because you’re well worth it!”

“In that case, Mistress, I have some ideas, but I can’t think of anywhere around here.” I took hold of Mistress’ hands and said, “If you can get away from the job, then I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, but how can you?”

Mistress reached into one of her pockets and produced a standard issue occupation I.D. card (obviously fake), in the name of Michelle Maginot from Alsace. “You don’t want to know what I had to do to get this, Princess. More importantly you don’t want to know who I had to fuck to get this; in my uniform, on my back with my eyes open and my tits out, like a five-mark whore. I’m not a damn whore, and it was massively humiliating way to be introduced to sex with men.

Princess, I apologize for my infidelity, but like you, I had no choice. Occupation currency is going to be worth virtually nothing within a very short space of time, so the forger told me that my fabulous Aryan body was the only thing a dirty little German whore had, that was worth trading for what she wanted. I also apologize for the fact that I might be pregnant, because the bastard refused to use a condom when he fucked me. He claims to have fucked several female deserters for identities, all without condoms, and I, apparently, was his prize; a Gestapo colonel in her uniform. It was just a pity that I wasn’t a virgin, though. He even wished me luck with my forthcoming pregnancy!

Six months ago, that bastard would have been licking dog shit off my high heels for a transport permit. Now it was me with my knickers off, on his office floor.

I think I understand you a lot better now, Princess. I understand the way you felt when I approached you in your cell. As I walked into the bastard’s studio the second time, I understood the way you felt when I helped you out of the trunk of my staff car. I didn’t want to do what I was going to do, and I thought it would be very unlikely that he’d be half as gentle with me, as I was with you.

However, that’s over and now that I have a civilian I.D. card, I can go anywhere that you can; just as long as I don’t get recognized before we get out of Paris. If that happens, I’m screwed, and probably so are you, for helping a deserter.”

“We’ll probably only be able to hitch out of the city, but it would be nice to go by train, after the liberation.”

After that Mistress took me to bed to soothe her sensibilities after being used like a prostitute, by a criminal, for several hours, and she took some soothing that night. I worked very hard to ease the tension in Mistress’ body and get her to relax as I pleasured her. I discovered a new taste that night, and one that I didn’t like any more than Mistress did. The taste? Semen. I licked it out of Mistress, where the criminal type left it, after doing little better than rape her, no less than three times in her sex, once in her bum, and once in her mouth. She didn’t want to have sex with any man, let alone without a condom, and yet she knew there was no choice but to do whatever he demanded.

I knew how that felt, though, for having been in much the same situation when Mistress freed me from my sentence of death, and installed me in her billet. There was of course one vital difference; I enjoyed the attentions of Mistress when she made love to me, but that animal sure as hell didn’t make love to Mistress! She was a piece of meat to be used to satisfy his urges, and could expect to be treated no differently. He even told her that, as she got down on her knees, opening her blouse and her mouth.

Mistress lay on our bed, after I got her out of her clothes, and she was almost trembling; which made no sense to me. What was the worst thing that could happen? With an old cloth, I wiped the semen away from the outside of Mistress’ sex, and there was a considerable amount of it. I kissed her as I rubbed the leftover semen around her sex, and eased a pair of fingers inside it, to pleasure her with just my fingers. Then I sucked them clean of the combined juices. It was my first taste of semen, and I hoped that it would be the final taste. I liked the sweet taste of Mistress’ sex juices uncontaminated by the male equivalent, but if it made her feel better, I would suck the entire lot out of her body and swallow it straight down. After I teased Mistress to her orgasm, I handed her both brush handles and asked for the obvious with them. After that Mistress took me into the shower and asked me, politely, to wash her fabulous body.

As I lay in bed that night, I thought about what had happened to Mistress, and about what she had done. She’d put herself through significant humiliation, just so that she could ask me if I was willing to help her escape her life, and escape from what was likely to happen to her if her enemies caught her; especially if she ended the war in the east! Could I have refused to help her?

As I lay on my side, looking at Mistress in the half light coming in the window, I put my available arm around her body. She turned and kissed me again, and there and then, I promised myself that I would get Mistress safely out of Paris, into a part of France controlled by the French, and I would make sure that she did not get arrested for being a soldier from the other side.

I had a few ideas about how to pull off that minor miracle, but didn’t really know if I could pull anything off. However, being in possession of an identity card, with the ability to walk the city streets again in daytime, without fear of being arrested, I could do so much more. Even if I did get lifted by the police, all I had to do was get word to Mistress that I was in trouble, and I’d be fine. I could easily imagine a French police sergeant getting very nervous when invited by a suspect to contact the local Gestapo headquarters and speak to the area commander to verify my identity. I could just as easily imagine the sight of him wetting his pants at the sight of Mistress in her full dress uniform, stomping into the police station with an escort, and demanding the immediate release of her stool pigeon.

Seeing as Mistress had her own identity card, getting her away from her employer shouldn’t have been that much trouble. If she hadn’t lived in Paris for years, it could have been much more difficult, but she even spoke with an accent that could be recognized by representatives of the French authorities as French, and that made things so much easier.

The following morning, as Mistress got dressed for ‘work,’ I noticed bruises on her fine body from where the filthy opportunist had been rough with her, and I wanted to kill him personally, for the way he hurt her. What I wanted to do was take the pistol that Mistress gave me, push the business end through the open zip of his pants, and pull the trigger. I wanted to see him lying on the ground, clutching his testicles, and begging for his life. I imagined standing over him, with Mistress machine pistol, and emptying the magazine into him, once I’d become fed up with listening to his pleas to be left alive. I knew I couldn’t do any of that, but I thought that there were other ways he could come to a sticky end! I figured that if information got to the right ears, then something nasty could be arranged for a collaborator once the German army left. Mistress didn’t have the contacts within the underground to arrange that ‘something nasty’, but although I wasn’t up-to-date anymore, I figured I could get the word through to the people who would have been interested in the activities of a collaborator and forger.

Luck was with us and we actually pulled everything off; including a summary execution of the collaborator bastard that hurt my beautiful little Mistress! It was in the papers quite quickly, because of why he’d been killed. I saw the irony; the fact that I got a Frenchman killed for hurting a German woman, and the strange thing was that I realized I didn’t give a damn. He brought his fate on himself by collaborating with the enemy during the occupation! I’d never really been angry at a person for anything, but I wanted that bastard stone cold dead for what he’d done to my nice, kind Mistress! I hated guns, but I don’t doubt that if I’d had the chance, I’d have shot the bastard myself.

Mistress had been so kind to me since the day we met; risking everything she had, including her life, to save me from a death camp, and treating me so well even though she knew she didn’t have to. She didn’t deserve what that bastard had done to her! If only he’d taken money from Mistress for the fake identity, rather than coerce her into having sex with him, the bastard would still have been alive, and Mistress had plenty of money to pay. But no, he wanted to humiliate and hurt a German, rather than just take money from her.

It doesn’t matter the cause; a man should never intentionally hurt a woman, so he got his just desserts for what he did to her. I can remember thinking that I was disappointed that his death was quick; I’d have liked him to have suffered before he died. I felt a little guilty for those thoughts later, though. Mistress suspected that I’d had a hand in the death of the man who had hurt her and challenged me about it. I didn’t deny a thing, and was surprised when Mistress kissed me, and said that it was one of the nicest things that anyone had ever done for her.

With my returned identity card, I was able to hire an apartment and move Mistress into it with me, although we had to move the timetable forward when Mistress received orders to report to Uncle Heini in Berlin, in seven days. I had a considerable supply of Mistress’ money and passed myself off as a relatively wealthy socialite intending to hide my feelings for another woman from my family, and hiding myself away with the woman I loved. A small, nondescript, apartment in an equally nondescript block, was just perfect for that purpose, so I paid our new landlord in untraceable cash, and he was quite happy with that. When the Free French forces liberated Paris, we stood by the side of the road, threw flowers, kissed passing soldiers, and cheered, as two happy, liberated Frenchwomen would be expected to do, on liberation day.

We knew that the way we looked, the day Mistress took delivery of her fake identity, meant that we couldn’t pass ourselves off as wartime Frenchwomen, so we’d virtually starved ourselves for the two weeks before we took over the new apartment, allowing ourselves a mere one meal per day, and two weeks of feeling hungry virtually all day, every day, was absolute torture. We ate at lunchtime; me at home and Mistress at work, and used our addiction to each other’s bodies to take our minds off the overwhelming hunger on a night. We also discovered that filling our stomachs with warm water also helped to reduce our pangs of hunger, so we drank considerable quantities of tea so that we didn’t want to eat quite as badly as we otherwise would.

We were putting ourselves through that purgatory for a worthwhile cause though. That cause was our freedom to be together, away from Mistress’ army and any of my surviving associates within the resistance; assuming that any were still alive and would recognize me any longer. However, it achieved what we intended it to achieve; we didn’t look suspiciously well-fed and provided for, any longer, having survived for six weeks, purely on what we could get on civilian ration cards; fake as our identities though they were.

On the morning of the fifteenth day, Mistress produced a bottle of expensive Cognac to share with me, over breakfast. Compared to what we were accustomed to living on, breakfast was cheap and miserable, but we had full stomachs at breakfast time for the first day in two weeks, and that counted for a lot. We also had a shot of Cognac each, which became two shots, and then three shots, and sort of expanded into us emptying the bottle between us and us becoming rather drunk, before drunkenly making love for the very first time; while giggling like giddy schoolgirls. Mistress didn’t drink more than a single shot; a double at the most, on any day, and neither did I, and therefore we couldn’t handle our drink.

After hiding in our new apartment for roughly two months, we presented ourselves to the French army staff administrating Paris, as released forced labor workers, wanting to relocate anywhere away from where we’d been forced to work for our captors for the previous three years.

Mistress deserted just over six weeks before Paris was liberated, and the effect of that was the reprisal action for her murder by the resistance.

An officer with Mistress’ service record and connections wasn’t even suspected of desertion, and it was immediately assumed that she’d been killed by the resistance. That was the only part of our escape plan that bothered me, because innocents suffered for something that the resistance wasn’t guilty of. The effect of German morale was considerable though. The thought that the resistance had lifted a Gestapo colonel, tortured her for what she knew, which was considerable, like as not raped her, too, and then disposed of her body, did not make them happy. The fact that uncle Heini would have been leaning on them very hard to find the guilty party wouldn’t have helped any. It couldn’t have any effect other than negative, especially at that stage of the war

Our identities were accepted and we were able to get places on a train heading for a safe area well clear of the fighting. We were allocated two beds in the same barrack block, trading with other women to get beds close together that we could reach out once it was dark and touch each other’s hand, and we considered ourselves fortunate in getting even that. We moved our beds close enough together so that we could talk in hushed whispers. There were a couple of fights because we weren’t able to hide the fact that we were lovers, but Mistress protected me from the attentions I received, by beating up at least three other women, and beating one of them quite severely; to the point where she slammed a door onto the bitch’s right arm, and broke it. She wasn’t conscious by then anyway, so she didn’t feel it, although when I was holding my left cheek, complete with the marks from three of her fingernails, I was wishing that she did feel it!
I had visible injuries that the woman with the broken arm had inflicted on me, and when challenged about it by the military police, Mistress used that as justification for the damage she inflicted on the woman in protecting the love of her life. No charges were pressed against anyone concerned; Mistress or the woman who attacked yours truly.

We were equally lucky in that Mistress wasn’t pregnant, although it wouldn’t have mattered to me if she had been. It wouldn’t have been a problem for me, anyway; in fact it might have been interesting to look after a little baby once we got clear of the processing center. I tried to image Mistress as a mother, but I really couldn’t!

Did we get much time to make love while we waited to be cleared, and processed through all the paperwork?

Did we hell!

We rarely got the chance for any more than a quick fondle and a kiss, and that was only if no one was looking at the time, but we simply made do with what we had. We considered ourselves to be fortunate that we were even still in the same country and could talk to each other every day, even if that was all we could do. We were in love and were happy just being able to look upon one another’s beautiful face.

Once things got straightened out, as the Allied forces liberated the entire country, I took my friend ‘Michelle’ to my parents’ home and introduced her, as we had previously dreamt that I could, as a friend from the factory we were forced to work in by the occupying Germans. I hated having to lie to my own parents, but I had little choice in the matter.

We were initially allocated separate bedrooms in my parents’ house, until I took my mother aside and, quite scared of how she might react, explained that in the time I had known Michelle, I had fallen in love with her. I then asked my mother if she would talk to my father on my behalf, and see if Michelle and I would be allowed to put our two single beds together in one bedroom, and share them as if we had a double bed. We had to stitch sheets and blankets together because we didn’t have coverings for a double bed, and we certainly couldn’t go out a just buy some. The war had ended for us, but rationing was still in place, and the availability of such simple things as blankets was very limited.

It would have been nice to have been able to live off the black market as we had in Paris for several years, but that would have been something we could not have explained away. When we presented ourselves to the French authorities with our wish to leave, we had very little money in our purses because in our position we wouldn’t have had very much money. Mistress’ was quite a wealthy woman, and to simply walk away from her savings, her position of power and influence, and become a simple refugee, must have been very difficult for her to do. Yet she said that money and power weren’t worth anything if she had no one to share it with! We left most of her cash in her billet to help give the impression that she hadn’t left willingly, and I suspect that a good chunk of it ended up in a greedy bastard of an investigator’s pocket! It would have been very nice if we could simply have bought a new double bed and all of the accoutrements to go with it, the way we would have in Paris, yet we couldn’t afford even a black market blanket set!

I was very surprised to discover that my worries with my parents were completely unfounded. They accepted Michelle as my lover, and allowed us to share a bed under their roof, without any form of protest, although I obviously couldn’t continue to address Michelle as “Mistress” in public. At least my parents permitted me to share a bed with my lover, the way they wouldn’t have if I’d hade a male lover; I’d have had to marry him before that was permitted. If it had been possible, I would have married Michelle. As Michelle and I couldn’t be married, my parents thought that we may as well have been allowed to ‘live in sin’. It was strange getting used to addressing my Mistress by any proper name, let alone a false one! For reasons I can’t explain, I quite enjoyed addressing Michelle as “Mistress,” and I continued to do so in private for many years; in fact I still do on occasion!

The war finished just the way Mistress predicted it would, with the defeat of her nation. The organization that Mistress had belonged to was declared an illegal organization by the victors; many men were hanged and considerable numbers of prison sentences were handed down to men and women who had had little choice but to follow orders, and that really wasn’t fair. You can’t declare an entire organization to be illegal only after it was disbanded at the point of a gun! We heard all about it on the radio and read about it in the papers, and thanked our lucky stars that Mistress wasn’t in the dock at Nuremberg, which she probably would have been if she’d been unable to safely escape from her career, and a life sentence in Spandau prison would not have been a surprise.

That was nearly ten years ago, and ‘Michelle’ and I are still together after almost fifteen years. We even adopted a seven year old war orphan in 1946, and she’s recently been married. What is ironic about our little family is that our ‘daughter’ was orphaned by the Royal Air Force, rather than any branch of the German army! Mistress said it was a good way for her to rehabilitate, and perhaps even make up a little for what she did to other people during the war.

Mistress’ conscience will probably be forever stained with the blood spilled for her, in the course of her duty; in the course of vigorous interrogations of captured resistance fighters and S.O.E. operatives. When I dropped out of that converted bomber, I understood the risk of being captured by the enemy, and I knew what might happen to me if that occurred. Could I have blamed Mistress for what would have happened to me as a consequence of my getting caught, if she hadn’t thought that I was pretty and wanted to claim my virginity for herself? I was fortunate in a way that I couldn’t have expected, and would never have imagined. How many S.O.E. agents came out of Gestapo headquarters with a lover for life?

I don’t think that Mistress will ever forgive herself for what her duty made her do; no matter how long she lives or how she tries to make amends. In her past, Mistress hurt so many people, and sent others to their deaths, so that she needs to atone by doing whatever she can, to help others, and she came up with a fine way to perform penance!

Would I surprise you by telling you that the ex Gestapo colonel is now a junior nurse in a French hospital, specializing in treating wounded veterans from the war? Well, she is!

Michelle graduated virtually at the top of her class and could have selected almost any hospital she wanted to work in, yet she chose to work with wounded soldiers. She descended from Queen of the hill; area commander for the Gestapo, to next to nothing; a mere rank and file nurse at the bottom of the pecking order. The strange thing is that Nurse Mistress is far happier in her new white uniform, than she ever was as Obersturmbannfuhrer Mistress in her old uniform. With her dedication to her job, Michelle won’t remain a junior nurse, though. She’ll get promoted, just like she did in her previous line of work, but this time it’ll be purely on merit, because she has no influential patron.

The doctors love her for her dedication to patient welfare, and the veterans themselves think she’s the best nurse since Florence Nightingale. If they’d seen her in Paris in late ’43 in her previous uniform, they wouldn’t be saying that! They’d be screaming to put her in front of a firing squad, and arguing amongst themselves as to who got to pull the triggers. As it stands, the veterans are virtually all old-fashioned men, and I doubt that there’s even one of them who wouldn’t risk his life for the ‘pretty little nurse with the funny accent.’ As Mistress puts it in her own works, “Fifty percent ex wealthy Paris socialite and fifty percent ex murdering Berlin bitch, and they have no idea! Let’s hope it stays that way, or they’ll hang me from one of the ceiling lights!”

Nurse Maginot frequently comes home with bouquets of flowers; gifts from patients and their families, as recognition of her dedication to her job, and you’ve got to see the irony in that. One young Frenchman who served with Bomber Command, being given ongoing treated for bad burns sustained in a crash, even gave her a red rose! How would he react to knowing that the pretty nurse who comes running with painkillers and salve whenever he shouts, was the same woman to send his twin brother to Dachau concentration camp early in ’42 after having him tortured for nearly two weeks?

However, if extra hours need to be put in, or an extra shift worked, the doctors know which nurse to call upon, and Michelle will be there for her patients when they need her, simply because that’s what she does.

Sometimes, after she’s done long shifts, and crazy amounts of extra shifts, I accuse her of caring more for her job than for her family, but she knows that it’s just the frustration speaking, and that I don’t really mean any of it. It’s just that being left alone for upwards of fourteen hours at a stretch reminds me of the long days I sometimes spent in her billet when we first got together, and those are days that I sometimes want to forget all about.

It uprooted the family when Michelle qualified as a nurse, but I thought that if it made her feel better about herself, I’d move anywhere she wanted to go, so when she asked me to accompany her to her new posting, two hundred miles from anyone I knew, I didn’t even hesitate; I told her that I’d go anywhere she went.

---

Angela and her companions have to regroup after witness the terrifying prowess of their quarry: the dragon Dominari!

The Knight and the Acolyte
Book Ten: The Flaming Woman
Chapter Five: Rain
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2017

Faoril – Asunow Princedom, The Princedoms of Zeutch

The rain hammered my rain cloak, beating the oiled canvas. Water dripped off the peak, falling onto my saddle. It didn’t help. The rain was too heavy. The road drank it in like the driest earth after a monsoon, becoming sodden, thick.

I didn’t care.

It was hard to care about anything after what happened an hour ago. I could still smell the reek of burning flesh, like it clung to us. The roar of the dragon’s flames crackled through my mind. The single gout of breath that incinerated a hundred soldiers, Prince Gruber of Kivnar, and his master mage. The mage hadn’t had a chance. He was dueling me when the dragon attacked. One moment, I was fending off his elemental attacks, the next he blazed with the others.

Dominari…

She was huge. I had studied dragons. They were rare. Most had been exterminated centuries ago. They lurked in the far corners of the world, eking out their existence. Only Dominari was bold enough to seize the Despeir mountains, the border between the civilized world and the dark Empire of Shizhuth to the east. She had claimed the mountains, established her desolation by burning down cities, towns, and villages. Until today, she had been academic on our quest. The monster we were working so hard to kill, but a distant threat that lay at the end of the long road we walked on.

And now, suddenly, she was so real to me. To all of us.

We all rode or walked subdued down the highway, leaving behind the dragon to feast on her carnage. I shuddered just remembering the sound of her eating the burning men, their half-molten armor crunching in her jaws. This was the beast we had to kill. How? No wonder every knight who Quested against her never returned. A single breath, and she would melt their armor to a puddle of molten steal, roasting them alive. Even with the High King’s sword, a weapon of great power, how would Angela survive?

How would the rest of us?

I had to start thinking. Wallowing in the shock of Dominari’s appearance wouldn’t stop us from facing her. Angela’s resolve was too great to waiver. I saw it. If Sophia hadn’t talked the knight out of it, she would have charged down the hill and fought the dragon right here, right now. But Sophia’s words, begging her to wait had worked.

Next time we faced the dragon, we had to be ready.

First problem, I thought, is warding against fire. Then speed. Thrak and Angela and Minx will need to move faster to be able to get in a fight. Or they need some sort of predictive magic. Faith magic. Like what the knights and the priestess of Slata had. Sophia will need to delve into her Goddess’s powers. What could I do? I could ward off the fire, but that would burn through my energy, and I wouldn’t be on offensive. Could Aurora’s elementals provide warding for us?

“Could my elementals do what?” Aurora asked, her voice subdued.

I blinked. I hadn’t realized I was talking aloud. “Warding. Against fire. Could your elementals protect us?”

Aurora, riding her horse ahead of me and beside her husband, turned around. Her sky-blue hair plastered about her innocent face, her sapphire eyes wide. She bit her lip. “Maybe. Wardings are…different.”

“You blocked off the tunnel back at the castle,” Chaun said. “You didn’t have to concentrate on it.”

“That’s what makes warding different,” she said. “I put the elemental on a simple task. To block something.”

“Could they block heat? Like a water elemental. So we could survive the dragon’s fire?” I asked.

Angela, riding at the front, turned her head around, her red hair plastered to her head, taking away its normally full volume. Her shoulders lifted, no longer sagging like they had been, a twinkle in her blue eyes. “Yes, can they?”

“Maybe,” Aurora admitted. “I don’t know. And enough to stop that fire…”

“Her flames were hot enough to partially melt steal,” Angela said. “That’s the heat of a coke furnace. That’s a lot of temperature.”

“I can produce that heat,” I said. “We can test it on something inanimate. Like a rock.”

“Why would you need…?” Princess Adelaide, looking even more bedraggled than the rest of us, asked. Her strawberry-blonde hair peeked out of the horse blanket she wore as a cloak, wrapped about her body and the fine dress beneath. “You’re not planning on fighting the dragon?”

“It’s why we need the sword,” Angela said. “It’s my Quest.”

“Quest? I thought you were stripped from your order.” The princess’s eyes were wide. “Chaun, are you really…?”

“Really,” the changeling nodded.

“What songs would be good against a dragon?” I asked, ignoring the princess. She didn’t matter.

“I have no idea,” Chaun said. “I think it’ll help us out. Keep up our courage and stamina. Keep us from losing hope.” His back shifted and his voice rose. He had a beautiful voice, the perfect control over it. His song was stirring, uplifting. Minx, riding behind Sophia, straightened in her saddle. The acolyte lifted her head as Aurora added her trilling voice to Chaun’s song, harmonizing with him, a smile touching her lips as she gazed at her husband.

“Sophia, we’ll need faith magic to enhance us. Give us preternatural reflexes. Something like what the priestesses of Slata gave the knights.”

Sophia writhed her shoulders. “I… I don’t know those spells. I’m sure my order has them, but… They don’t teach acolytes more than the basics. Advanced spells for when we’re full priestesses and have access to Saphique’s magic normally.”

I sighed.

“Healing potions,” Thrak growled. “She should make more. Hand them out to all of us. Just in case.”

“I die?” Sophia asked, her voice tight.

“You are unable to get to us,” my husband said. Even he marched with his back straight now as he walked beside my horse, the rain running down his bare, scarred chest. His kilt clung sodden to his massive thighs. “This fight will be hectic.”

“And enchant weapons,” Angela added. “I imagine dragons have tough hide. You can enchant Thrak’s ax, Minx’s daggers, and Xera’s arrows.”

“I can do that at least,” Sophia said.

“You are all crazy,” the princess gasped.

“We are,” Minx laughed. “I doubt my alchemical bombs will be much use.”

“You’ll probably put us to sleep instead of the dragon,” Thrak grunted.

“And given her size, I imagine that the dosage of any of your alchemical bombs will not be enough,” I added.

“So no making her so horny she just fucks her cave wall while we slit her throat?” Minx asked. “That would make it easy.”

“No, I doubt that will work.”

Xera, walking naked and unconcerned in the cold rain, said, “Your damiana bomb would just make us all horny.”

Minx grinned at the elf. “That’s fun, too. It helped us beat the knights. Fucking is more fun than fighting.”

“Definitely,” the elf nodded, her ears twitching.

The mood had changed. We had hope again. Purpose. We would defeat the dragon. It would be hard. Difficult. Some of us may even perish. But we had agreed to walk this road with Angela. We could not abandon her now. Not after all we had been through together. I rode with my back straight despite the rain, Chaun’s song stirring my soul.

We had more of a chance than any would-be hero before us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aurora Xandra

The rain drummed on the roof of our tent. It was a new tent, bought in Unmik before our arrest. Prince Gruber’s kept all our gear together, so when we fled, we still had our saddlebags and camping gear, along with our food and items of comfort. Gods be praised. Weather of eastern Zeutch was miserable. So cold and wet and rainy.

It did not get cold on Mount Peritito. Every day was warm. Even a cold day was moderated by the volcano’s heat bleeding out into the world. But this was miserable. So I was glad to get out of my wet clothes and crawl into bed with Chaun. He already lay stretched out on the bed, naked, his body dark and lithe, a shadow in the tent. I crawled to him and—

The tent flap opened. Princess Adelaide fell to her knees inside, her bedraggled skirts whisking against each other. The rain and travel had ruined her expensive gown, the silks stained and tattered. I blinked at the sight of her, silhouetting our sputtering camp fire.

“You’re sleeping with Angela and Sophia,” I said, anger swelling through me. She was the reason we had to flee a chasing army. Because she thought she owned my husband. The gall of the hussy. “There tent is…”

A sob escaped her, ragged and full of pain. Her shoulders shook. Her wet hair curtained around her face, hiding her expression as she sobbed again. Then a keening wail rose from her throat, so full of pain and loss.

I bit my lip. Her husband had died today.

“Adelaide,” Chaun said, his voice gentle. He sat up, glancing at me.

I sighed, nodding my head.

Chaun moved to the Princess, grabbing her shoulders and lifting her upright. She sat at the entrance of our tent, sniffling, as Chaun brushed back her wet hair. I could just make out her face in the darkness, tears falling down her cheeks.

Then she threw herself at my husband, her wet silks rustling. She buried her face into his neck, her body shaking worse. More sobs came as Chaun rocked her. I wanted to hate her, I did, but it was so hard when she sounded so broken and lost.

“I’m sorry,” Chaun said as he rocked her.

“I th-thought he loved me,” she said through hiccuping sobs. “H-he always t-told me he did. And…and…”

Chaun didn’t say anything. His eyes caught mine over her shoulder, wet with emotion. Her husband had died today. The poor thing. Among my people, losing a nestmate was a tragic day. But she kept saying she loved Chaun. It seemed to me she didn’t care about her marriage.

“And then… You heard him.” Adelaide pulled back, her hands cupping Chaun’s face. “He d-didn’t care if I d-died. He j-just wanted Angela and th-the sword. He…”

She melted into incoherent tears again, collapsing into Chaun’s chest this time. He stroked her wet hair as she cried, her face rubbing against him. I wanted to say something, but what? I didn’t know Adelaide as anything more than the woman who wanted to steal my husband away. And now she was in so much pain and…”

I felt bad for hating her.

“I truly thought he loved me,” she whispered after a few minutes.

“You never loved him,” Chaun said.

Adelaide flinched. “But…” She looked up at him. “Did you ever love me, Chaun? Or…or were you like him…? Pretending?”

“Like you were pretending you loved him?”

She ignored it. “You did love me, right? You always told me you did.”

“I was…fond of you,” Chaun admitted, glancing at me. “I thought I loved you. I did. But… I hadn’t really discovered what it meant to love someone.”

“I loved you,” she said fiercely, squeezing tight. “And I know you loved me Chaun.” She sounded so desperate as she looked up at him, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
Tears fell down my cheeks. The poor woman. Her entire world was thrown upside down today. It must have been horrible hearing her husband say such callous words about her. To think that he didn’t love her after all these years of her thinking he did. Even if she didn’t love him back, she had valued his feelings.

“Tell her,” I whispered, moving closer to them.

Chaun stared me in the eyes. I nodded my head.

“I loved you, Adelaide. Back then. And for years later, I thought about you so much, dreamed of the day we could be together.”

She shivered. “All my fault. I…” She bit her lip. “If I hadn’t asked you to my bedchamber that night… If he hadn’t…come home early… We could have…”

“Yes,” Chaun said, stroking her hair. “We could have.”

Adelaide struck quickly, her hands seizing Chaun’s silvery hair, gripping it as she planted her lips hard and hot on his lips. She kissed him with passion. She moaned, pushing him back, hungry for him. To be loved again. She believed two men loved her, and she needed to know that one of them still did.

Chaun pushed on her shoulders, breaking the kiss. “Wait…”

“Wait?” She shivered. “I…” Her voice trembled.

“My wife.” Chaun glanced at me. “She has to be apart of this. I love her, too.”

Adelaide snapped her head around, looking at me. Noticing me for the first time. For a moment, fiery possession seized her face, her brow twisting, her lips pursing. And then she shivered, nodding her head.

“I understand. You love her…more than me.”

“I am sorry,” Chaun said. “It just…happened. She loves me.”

“I love you!” Adelaide said, her voice fierce, possessive. “I don’t care what you believe, Chaun. I love you.”

Then she kissed him hard, claiming his mouth at the same instant her hand reached out towards me, fingers wiggling, beckoning. I took her hand and she pulled me close to them. I shivered, a wave of excitement washing out of my pussy, my nipples hardening on my breasts. I leaned down, nuzzling against Chaun, my body brushing her wet dress as my lips nuzzled in, joining their kiss.

All three of us moaned as our lips met, tongues swiping, licking. I shivered, feeling Adelaide’s desperate passion. It consumed her. It possessed her. She had to share it with Chaun. She had to feel it. I moaned, my heart beating faster and faster.

I liked sharing women with my husband.

Our hands stripped her sodden silks from her form as the three of us kissed. We exposed the princess’s body. She writhed between us, our hands stroking her, her hands stroking us. I gasped as she found my small nipples, pinching, rolling them.

I returned the favor, playing with her fat nipples.

She whimpered as Chaun and I pushed her on her back, the both of us sucking on her nipples. Our cheeks rubbed together, our shoulders touching. I savored it, pleasuring this woman with my husband, my pussy growing wetter and wetter.

“Chaun,” Adelaide sighed as my tongue swirled about her fat nub. Then I engulfed it, loving how it felt in my mouth. “Oh, I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he groaned between wet sucks.

“And her big tits?” I asked, a naughty glint in my voice.

Chaun stiffened.

“They are lovely tits.”

“Mmm, thanks,” the princess purred, her hand swiping through my damp hair. “You’re breasts are lovely, too, Aurora.”

I smiled, my nipples throbbing as her right hand found them, punching and pulling them, moving back and forth as I sucked hard on her nipple. She groaned and shivered, writhing as we loved her nipples, the rain drumming louder on the canvas above us.

Together, Chaun and I moved down her body. We kissed across her stomach, our tongues licking, making her squirm. Her fingers stopped playing with my nipple as we reached her groin. She had a shaved line of pubic hair, just like I did, reaching towards her pussy. The scent of her spicy musk swelled.

“Mmm, let’s devour her,” I groaned.

Chaun chuckled. “I thought you hated her.”

“A little,” I said. “She did try to steal you.”

“You can’t blame me for that,” moaned the princess. “He is so sexy.”

“Yeeeees,” I groaned, my pussy clenching.

Together, Chaun and I lowered our lips down to her pussy. We were hungry for Royal cunt. Our cheeks pressed tight as our tongues licked through her folds and across her plump vulva. Her spicy musk coated my tongue. I savored her flavor, wiggling my hips, my own juices dribbling down my thighs.

Our tongues brushed as we licked through her folds. We found her clit, batting it, making her squirm more and more. Her moans echoed through our tent, louder than the rain as we devoured her naughty snatch. I nuzzled lower, wiggling my tongue in while Chaun flicked her clit.

Her pussy clenched as he did it.

“Chaun,” she gasped. “Oh, wow, that’s nice. Oh, yes, suck on my clit while your wife… Yes!”

The princess’s squeals were exciting. My tongue wiggled and swirled through her depths. I loved how her pussy walls felt as they contracted against my licking tongue. She gasped, spasming, the pleasure building in her as I assaulted her.

Chaun lifted his face, his dark fingers rubbing at her clit. He slid up her body as she moaned. I buried my face deep into her pussy, tonguing her as Chaun claimed the princess’s lips, kissing her hard, letting her taste her own pussy.

“Mmm, you’re getting so hot and wet,” I purred, sliding two fingers into her pussy, pumping them in and out. “Aren’t you?”

She broke the kiss with Chaun. “Yes! I’m on fire.”

“Good,” I moaned, tonguing around my plunging fingers.

Chaun’s digits danced on her clit. I licked his fingers, too, flicking up and down on her slit, drinking her spicy folds. I shoved my fingers in deep, savoring the silky feel of her pussy. Chaun had fucked this pussy so many times. He knew the sublime delight of being in her snatch when she came.

“Cum,” I moaned, fingering her faster and faster. “Let me hear you explode, Princess.”

“Yes,” Chaun groaned, twisting his body and engulfing her fat nipple.

She ran her fingers through her silvery hair and let out a whimper of delight. Her body bucked and heaved. Hot pussy spasmed about my fingers. Her juices flooded out. I lapped them up, moaning my enjoyment as the princess came.

She screamed her head off. She bucked and groaned. Chaun’s fingers were a dark blur frigging her clit. My own nub throbbed in my pussy folds, aching to be touched and played with in the same way. I shivered, thrusting my fingers deep into her snatch, feeling her pussy spasm about them.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I groaned. “That’s it. Oh, you love it. Just keep cumming. Mmm, yes. Enjoy it. Then you get to fuck my husband’s cock while I fuck your ass.”

“Oh, you have a dildo?” the princess moaned.

“In a way,” I grinned, licking my lips, savoring her spicy cream staining them. I had an idea to use an elemental in a very naughty fashion.

“Let’s do it,” Adelaide moaned. “On you’re back, Chaun. Let me ride you.”

“Yes, yes,” I groaned, rising up and ripping my fingers out of the princess’s pussy. They dripped with her juices.

Chaun rolled onto his back, a huge grin on his face. He was eager for it. I bet all three of his balls were just bursting with cum to flood the princess’s pussy. His thick dick throbbed ebony-black as the princess’s pale hands grabbed it. She didn’t hesitate to straddle his waist. I stared at her ass as it clenched in delight, her pussy sliding down his girth.

“Gods, that’s wonderful,” groaned Chaun.

“Pater’s cock, I missed this,” Adelaide moaned. “I thought about this night every day. I wished I’d made a different decision. That I didn’t—”

He placed a finger to her lips. “You didn’t know your husband would come home early. It’s not your fault.”

She shivered on him, her ass clenching again as she writhed her hips. Then she slid her pussy up and down his shaft, leaving glistening juices staining that delicious cock. I groaned, shoving my right hand, covered in her juices, into my pouch and searched for my totem.

I grabbed the mangrove totem, stroking the undulating lines. I pulled it out and summoned the water elemental. It gathered its small body from the rain outside then flowed into the tent. Chaun glanced as me as I rose, my left hand sliding up to cup my small breast. The water flowed up my thigh to my clit, attaching onto it.

I shivered, my fingers dancing on my totem, controlling the elemental as it fashioned its watery body into a cock thrusting from my clit. It pulsed, contracting my little nub, shooting sparks of pleasure through me. I forced the water into a rigid shape, the surface rippling slightly.

“Fuck her,” groaned Chaun.

Princess Adelaide threw a look over her shoulders. Her eyes widened when she saw my watery cock. “Oh, gods, yes. Fuck me with that. I haven’t been double penetrated in a few weeks.”

“Oh, I will fuck you hard,” I moaned, moving behind her. My left hand grabbed her left butt-cheek, pulling it to the side. I shoved my watery cock into her crack, searching for her asshole. I felt what the elemental felt through the totem. It slid across her flesh and found her puckered asshole.

I thrust hard.

“Luben’s sacred oath,” I groaned as the pressure increased on my clit as I fucked the elemental dick into her asshole.

Her bowels were tight on the watery cock, pressing in on the elemental as I sank deeper and deeper into her. She moaned, wiggling, her back arching. I leaned over her, sliding my left hand around her to grab her round breast. My right hand gripped the totem, fingers dancing, controlling the elemental.

I drew back and then thrust in, groaning as the pressure increased on my clit. It was wonderful. The elemental teased my clit, playing with it, almost licking it as I fucked her asshole, driving her down my husband’s cock.

“Gods, that’s amazing,” she moaned. “Pater’s dick, yes.”

“Fuck her,” Chaun groaned, his dark hands seizing Adelaide’s pale ass. “Pound her, my songbird.”

“Yes,” I sang, my pussy clenching as I thrust harder and harder.

Chaun groaned and the princess moaned. My groin smacked into her ass as I drove the watery cock over and over into her bowels. They were so tight and hot. I felt the elemental writhing in pleasure as it caressed my clit. My fingers danced on the cock, playing with its body.

A tendril crept from the elemental down through my pussy lips, penetrating me. My back arched as a water cock filled my snatch. My pussy clenched on it as I drove the other end into Adelaide’s tight bowels.

I felt the difference between our two holes. My pussy was wet and silky while her bowels were hot and velvety. I groaned, fucking her bowels faster and faster. The other end in me pumped in and out, matching the rhythm of my hips, sending pleasure shooting through me.

“Oh, gods,” I moaned to Chaun. “Oh, this is so much fun.”

“Yes,” he grunted.

“So much! Pater’s cock, yes!” Princess Adelaide’s back arched. “Fuck me! Both of you pound me. I’m going to cum!”

“Do it,” Chaun growled. “Let me feel that pussy massage my cock.”

“Yes, yes, massage the cum out of my husband’s balls,” I moaned, my pussy clenching on the thrusting cock, my hips a blur. My fingers danced on the totem. “Let’s all cum!”

My orgasm swelled through me. I squeezed the princess’s breast hard as I fucked her. My hips pounded her. My clit ached and throbbed. My pussy drank in the friction of the watery dick. I shuddered, my head tossing, hair flying.

Adelaide squealed. She slammed her hips down Chaun’s cock as I drove into her pussy. Her bowels writhed about the watery cock. She screamed out her orgasmic delight. Chaun groaned, experiencing the delight of her spasming pussy.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I moaned. “Cum in her, Chaun. Flood her! Breed her! Plant a changeling baby in her!”

“Yes!” gasped the princess.

“Aurora,” groaned my husband. “Gods, yes!”

I knew he was cumming. I knew those groans he made. He was flooding the princess with his cum. He was breeding her. Just like I hoped he had bred me. I hoped an egg grew in my womb. I’d know by the time we reached the Altar of Souls if he had fertilized me.

“Breed her!” I sang as I drove into her bowels. My clit throbbed.

I joined them, cumming hard. Pleasure rushed through my mind. My thoughts embraced the rapture bubbling out of my pussy. My cunt spasmed on the water elemental thrusting in and out of me. I groaned, drinking in the pleasure, my fingers still dancing on my totem.

“Gods,” the princess moaned. “Gods, I hoped you bred me.”

“Yes,” I panted, slumping over the pair of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minx

“I want this cock in me, now,” I said the moment Xera stepped into our tent, her naked body dripping with rainwater. I grabbed her cock swinging between her thighs. “Prince Gruber stole last night from us. So you have to make it up to me.”

Xera laughed. “Greedy, huh?”

“So greedy,” I grinned. “Sophia got to enjoy your cock last night, but I didn’t. And you won’t be in heat again for another month.”

“You can make my cock sprout whenever you like,” she laughed as I pulled her deeper into the tent.

“It’s special when it sprouts naturally,” I told her as she knelt down. I stroked her thick dick, her big tits jiggling as she stretched out on her back.

She smiled, her ears twitching. It was almost over. This was my last heat to enjoy before she would head back to her wife and daughter. Maybe the last one ever if things went bad fighting the dragon.

So I would enjoy myself.

I stroked her dick with both hands, my tongue lathing cross the throbbing crown. Xera groaned, her arms stretching over her head as I slid my tongue through her slit, savoring her salty precum. My hands stroked down her cock, finding her wet pussy.

I played with her snatch with one hand, the other fisting her cock. My fingers danced through her folds, making her squirm more. Those delicious boobs jiggled as I latched my mouth onto the crown of her dick. I couldn’t open my mouth wide enough to swallow her cock—but I could suck on the end.

“Minx,” she groaned as I sucked hard, my tongue playing with her slit. “My naughty minx.”

“So naughty,” I moaned about the tip of her dick, my fingers rubbing at her pussy.

Her pussy was shaved and she had so many folds, an extra set of pussy lips for me to explore. My fingers danced through them as I stroked her dick. Her shaft throbbed in my fisting hand while her body twitched and gasped.

Her hot juices, smelling like marigold nectar, coated my fingers. She squirmed and gasped, her hips bucking, her dick throbbing. My small fingers pressed into her hot depths, feeling her sheath clench as the pleasure built in her.

I popped my mouth off. “I bet you want to cum?”

“So badly,” she moaned.

“In my mouth?” I shoved my fingers deeper into her cunt.

“Yes!”

“In my asshole!”

“Uh-huh!”

“In my pussy!”

“Matar’s cock, yes! I love cumming in your pussy.”

Because she couldn’t breed me. It wasn’t technically cheating with me. She couldn’t impregnate me like she could another elf or another of the hermaphroditic races. Elves were super weird. I stared into her green eyes. I loved her so much. And I knew she loved me even if she was married.

I didn’t want to lose her. I wouldn’t lose her.

“Then let’s cum in my pussy all night long!” I said, rising and straddling her with my slender legs.
Her cock was so long I had to rise up on my knees just to slid her elf-dick beneath my pussy. My small frame shivered. She’d reach so deep into me. I loved taking her shaft all the way in me. I stared at the metallic-bronze skin of my stomach as I sank down her girth.

My belly bulged as I took all of her cock.

“Cernere’s black cunt!” I groaned as the friction shivered through me. I loved this cock so much.

I wiggled down her cock, taking more and more of her girth. My pussy clung to her. It was so wonderful. My back arched. Her hands grasped my hips, her fingers, so pale and tinged with green, wrapped about my narrow hips.

“Matar’s cock, I love this.”

“You love me?” I asked.

“I do.” Her body shook. Her big boobs quivered.

“Good,” I moaned as I bottomed out on her cock. “I love you so much, Xera. I’m coming with you.”

“With me?” she groaned as I rode up her dick.

“To your forest. I’ll be your halfling mistress. You can share me with your wife.” I grinned. “You know how much I love hermaphrodites and their cocks.”

“I don’t know,” she moaned as I leaned over, sliding my pussy down her girth again. Her dick throbbed in my depths.

“You do know.”

My small hands grabbed her big boobs. I squeezed them as I pressed my face into them. Stretched out on her belly, I was just tall enough to snuggle into them. I stared up at her from the valley of her big tits, her green eyes fluttering.

“You do want me to come back with you, right?”

“Yes,” she gasped, her hands sliding down my body to grip my ass as I slid my pussy up and down her cock. “Yes, yes, yes.”

I shivered, my pussy clenching down so hard on her dick. “Good! Fuck me! Cum in me! Over and over, Xera!”

Her hands squeezed my ass hard as she rolled me over. I shivered, crushed beneath her lithe body. I felt so tiny when she was on top. Her breast smothered my face. I could die happy this way, my hands squeezing her tits, my pussy impaled on her cock, unable to breathe but buried in her soft, pillowy tits.

She moved her hands, rising up on her elbows as she drew back her hips and slammed her girl-cock into my pussy. I groaned, clenching down on her girth. Her big tits dangled over my face, swinging, her nipples bushing my lips.

So I sucked on one, my cheeks hollowing.

“Minx,” she groaned, fucking me harder.

I wrapped my slim thighs about her, my clit throbbing every time her pubic bone smashed into it. I loved it when she bottomed out in me. Her cock filling me to the brim. I gasped about her nipple, sucking so hard while her voice was so musical.

My pussy grew hotter and hotter. I clenched on her dick, savoring the increased friction. It carried me higher and higher, closer and closer. I nibbled on her nipple, making her tremble atop me, her thrusts harder, stronger. More frantic.

She neared her orgasm.

“Minx,” she groaned. “Oh, you’re so hot. Matar’s cock, yes!”

“Cum in me,” I moaned. “Flood me. Give it to me. All that yummy elf-seed. I want it!”

My pussy tingled as she slammed into me. Her cum spurted as she moaned. I buried my face into her breasts, squeezing them both as she basted me. Her elf-jizz splashed against the depths of my pussy. So hot and thick and wonderful.

I came.

Hard.

I bucked and spasmed beneath her. Stars burst before my vision. My head writhed between her tits. I rubbed her silky mounds on my cheeks as my pussy milked her dick. I shivered, rapture flooding through my body as she groaned atop me.

“My naughty minx,” she panted. “Oh, yes. Oh, you’re so hot. Oh, I love you.”

“Love you,” I squeaked, voice muffled by her wonderful tits.

I shivered beneath her one last time. My pussy clenched about her cock. And then I groaned, blinking. Such rapture buzzed through my body as my orgasm receded. I wiggled on her dick, savoring her thick shaft.

“Mmm, do that to me again,” I moaned.

“Yes,” she groaned, drawing back her hips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Acolyte Sophia

“My Queen,” I said, bowing as Angela entered the tent. She had the first watch.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” she said. The rain had stopped an hour ago, but her armor was still wet.

“I have a favor to ask,” I told her, rising and helping to unbuckle the straps holding on her pauldrons. I had grown quite skilled at removing her armor over the last six months.

It was spring when we left Secare. It felt longer.

“Yes?” she asked as I knelt down, unbuckling her sword belt, her large breasts heaving above me.

“Help me contact my goddess.”

A smile played on her lips in the darkness of the tent. Just enough light from the campfire, fed by Thrak as he took his turn at watch, bled through the canvas to allow me to see. “I bet it’s naughty.”

“Very naughty,” I moaned. “We will both have to focus on the pleasures of feminine delight, calling out to our goddess.”

“So she’s our goddess?” Angela asked.

“Of course, my Queen. She’s every woman’s goddess. Particularly those who love each other.”

“And I do love my concubine,” Angela said as I unbuckled the greaves strapped over her leather, thigh-high boots.

I shivered in delight.

“Very well. This must be important.”

I nodded my head. “I need to learn all the spells I can.”

“Well, she did give you your magic early,” Angela said. “She must have known you’d need them.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded.

“So,” Angela asked, falling down to her knees before me, her hands sliding up my naked body. I shivered as they reached my breasts. “How do we do this?”

“We must unite our sexes, pressing them as close as possible, and concentrate most hard on her virginal love.”

Angela’s smile grew. “And you’re not trying to control how we make love tonight?”

“I would never do that, my Queen,” I gasped.

She laughed, moving her legs, scissoring them with mine as she leaned back. “I know you wouldn’t. You’re my concubine.”

“Always,” I breathed, my heart racing as she pushed her pussy closer to mine, her ass sliding up my right thigh. I leaned back, too, my pussy clenching.

And then our cunts met.

I groaned at the contact of our hot flesh rubbing together. Our shaved flesh, both wet and slippery with our excitement, slid across each other. My clit throbbed as her pussy lips caressed it. And then our buds brushed, sparks flying.

I groaned, my heart racing as our hips undulated together. Her breasts jiggled as she tossed back her head, moaning loudly. Her pussy grew hotter and hotter as our flesh slid together. She sank lower, stretching out on her side.

“Mmm, yes,” moaned Angela. “Saphique, can you feel how much we love each other? How we revel in each other’s flesh?”

“Yes, yes, my goddess,” I moaned, lying on my back. I grabbed Angela’s right leg, bring her feet to my lips. “We love each other and need your guidance. Shine your light upon us.”

Angela groaned as my tongue swiped through her toes. I shivered, tasting the leather, not caring because they were my Queen’s toes. She shivered, humping harder against me as I sucked on her toes, loving them, worshiping them.

Our hips humped faster and faster, sliding our pussies together. My labia ached and throbbed against her flesh. Our clits kissed over and over. I shivered each time, moaning as I sucked on her toes, my hands stroking her thighs. My nipples rubbed on her calves as I shivered, each throbbing, shooting pleasure down to my pussy.

“Oh, Saphique, feel how dedicated my concubine is to you. How much she loves you and all women. She worships us. She’s your most devoted servant. Come upon her.”

Angela humped harder against me, hugging my right leg between her tits as she ground her pussy on mine. I shivered, the pleasure building and building. It swelled swiftly as I tongued the sole of her foot. Angela shivered, loving it.

“Saphique, yes,” Angela moaned. “She’s such a worthy acolyte.”

“I need you, my virgin Goddess,” I moaned, grinding my pussy hard against Angela’s. Our flesh kissed, growing hotter and hotter, wetter and wetter.

“Yes, yes, yes,” my Queen moaned.

I felt her orgasm approach. My training had taught me how to read the signs of a woman’s arousal. And it built in her swiftly. It swelled and rose. I ground harder on her, eager for her to explode in a shower of delight. I rubbed and humped, trembling, my body shivering in anticipation of her explosion of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Angela gasped. “Oh, Saphique, bless her. Bless her!”

“Bless me, my Goddess!” I groaned, trembling.

“Saphique!”

Angela trembled. Her juices flooded hot as she came against my pussy. I sucked hard on her toe, trembling, savoring the heat of her cream. Our hips both undulated. Our clits met in a fiery kiss. Sparks flew.

I joined her in rapture.

My pussy spasmed. My juices flooded out. Our musks mixed in the air. Tangy and tart, an incense to please my goddess. The rapture shot through me. I gasped, my eyes fluttering as the ecstasy boiled my mind and—

The world vanished.

I was lying on warm sand. Water lapped at my legs. Women moaned around me. I blinked, staring up at blue skies. The scent of hot pussy wreathed the air as I sat up on the beach of the Isle of Women—Saphique’s paradise in the Astral Realm.

“Welcome, my child.”

I shivered, recognizing that voice. I turned to see Saphique, the Virgin Goddess, standing in the surf, looking like a slim, young woman. Her body petite and her face youthful, innocent. The waves splashed about her legs, beads of water glistening like diamonds on her skin.

“You answered,” I gasped, rolling over on my knees and bowing before her.

“Such genuflection is not needed here,” Saphique said, moving to me. She knelt over me, her hands stroking my light-brown hair.

“I am so sorry, my Goddess,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I was too immature to learn before. I didn’t pay attention in my lessons. If I had, I would know the spells to protect us against the dragon. To help us fight. I am humbly sorry, my Goddess, for not being a better acolyte.”

“And that is why you’re here?” Saphique asked. “So that I may impart upon you the knowledge of all my magic?”

She raised my face from the sand to stare up at her. “Yes, my Goddess. We need more than the healing magic I know. I need something to ward my friends and protect them.”

“Even the men?”

I winced. “They are…my friends, too.” I swallowed. “Nothing in your teachings say we have to hate men, just not submit to their lusts. I do not know them carnally, but I know them…emotionally. Thrak and Chaun are dear to me. I want to protect them as much as my Queen.” Tears beaded my eyes. “Please, my goddess. You gave me your milk early for a reason. Before I was a priestess. It must be because you want Angela to kill the dragon.”

“I do not care about the dragon,” she said. “I merely addressed something monstrous that had been done to you.”

“Monstrous?” I frowned. “What?”

She stroked my cheeks. “Protect your friends, my dear Acolyte. Even the men. I do not want you to perish. You are special.”

I blinked. “I am.”

She nodded her head as she drew my lips to her pink nipple beading with her milk. “Drink and gain the knowledge you need. You will change my church, Sophia. And that is something remarkable.”

I latched onto her nipple. Change her church? Me? I was just an acolyte. Angela’s sex slave. She would change the world. She would be the High Queen. She would reforge her ancestor’s empire with his sword.

Would that change the church?

I drank deeply of Saphique’s milk. I shuddered as rapture engulfed me. The moment the first drop of her creamy milk splashed on my tongue, my orgasm exploded through my body. I gasped and groaned, my thoughts awash in bliss.

And knowledge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chaun – Kivnar Princedom, The Princedoms of Zeutch

I climbed off my horse as we reached the crossroad. Three days since the dragon, and we had reached the road that lead northeast to Echur, the capital of the Princedom of Kivnar. I stopped before the princess’s horse. Her dress looked much improved, fixed by Faoril’s magic.

She swung down from her brown mare’s saddle. I grabbed her waist, helping her to the ground. I stared at the princess. The last few nights had been…wonderful. Aurora and I had shared our bed with the princess, loving her. The pair even seemed…friendly.

“You can come with me,” Adelaide said. “I know your friends are committed to this folly, but you and your wife can come to my court. You will not be a fugitive, Chaun. I will write to the Bardic College of Az, have them reinstate your status as a bard.”

“I am committed to this folly,” I told her, stroking her fair cheek.

She sighed, her blue eyes squeezing shut.

“We will survive,” Aurora said, her voice firm as she joined us. “Okay, Adelaide?”

My wife embraced the princess. They held each other fiercely. Both their eyes beaded with tears. Their lips met in a quick kiss. Then my wife turned, her arm reaching, pulling me to join them. Their arms slipped about me. The teary princess kissed me with such passion, such longing.

And it was still her dead husband I saw in her thoughts. She didn’t love me. She loved owning me. It was close. But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t what Aurora felt. But it was still nice to feel her hot lips on mine.

She broke the kiss. “Then come to my castle when you’re done. I could use a Court Bard and his songbird. A place for you to nest and lay your egg. To see your son grow.” She rubbed her belly. “I…I wasn’t using magic as a contraception. I haven’t been with my husband in months. I know you’ve quickened a child in me, Chaun. The changeling who shall rule Kivnar next.”

“As Gruber’s son?”

“Only to the world. He’d know who his true father is. And with your help, he can hide who he is, blend in. And…” She smiled. “In a generation or two, changelings might rule Kivnar openly.”

I glanced at Aurora.

“Maybe we will,” she said, glancing at me.

“Maybe,” I agreed. I took a deep breath. “You should be safe on the road, Princess. I am sure there are local lords who will recognize you and convey you home. Especially after the tragedy that you escaped.”

Adelaide nodded her head. “I will be fine. I’m not the one going to fight a dragon.”

“My wife’s powers will protect me.” The tests using water elementals as wardings had proven successful. Thrak had volunteered to be warded after the rocks survived Faoril’s fires. The big orc came through unscathed.

“Then come back to me,” Adelaide said. “Both of you. It’s a command. I am the ruler of Kivnar now. You stand upon my soil.”

I bowed my head. “Your Highness, we are your humble servants.”

Fresh tears fell down her face. Then she turned and mounted her horse. I held my wife as Adelaide rolled back. Lady Delilah promised me I would be a Court Bard again when she recruited me months ago in Lor-Khev. I doubted she meant at the court of Kivnar.

I glanced at Angela waiting on her palfrey warhorse. She would be High Queen one day. Somehow, Lady Delilah knew that. She promised me I’d be a Court Bard again. And I would be, to Angela. We were five days from the Altar of Souls. Five days from reforging the High King’s sword.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Knave Angela – The Altar of Souls – The Princedoms of Zeutch

I trembled as we approached the hill.

It lay on the edge of the desolation. Beyond were the fields scorched by Dominari, a dun stain on the horizon. But here, rising out of the plain, was the verdant hill upon which rested the Altar of Souls. Where the God Krab had forged the mountains of the world, mighty devices of antiquities, and the weapons of gods and heroes.

Including my ancestor’s sword.

I trembled as we approached it. Since Dominari’s attack eight days ago, we had no problems crossing through the Princedoms. Yesterday, we crossed the River Nyer and entered the Princedom of Kot-Ner. We had left the highway, cutting across what was once good farming land, but abandoned because it lay too close to the Desolation.

We spotted the hill two hours ago. As it blossomed larger and larger, my stomach twisted more and more. What would happen after we killed the dragon? The sword was split apart to keep anyone from having High King Peter’s power. From reforging his empire.

I didn’t want to rule. I didn’t want to have power. But would the rulers of the world believe that? Prince Gruber thought I was reforging the sword for that reason. I know Sophia believed I would do it. I was pretty sure that was why she called me Queen to begin with. The rest of the party kept staring at me, such speculation in their eyes.

Were they ready to help me conquer the world?

The dragon. Focus on the dragon. We might not survive Dominari. Then it was moot.

“Such power,” Aurora said, her voice tight. “It’s warded by elementals. I can feel them in the hill, waiting.”

“And the spells that ward it,” Faoril said in awe. “Ancient magics laid down…”

“It whispers,” Xera said, her eyes twitching. “It’s waiting.”

“For you, my Queen,” Sophia said.

I patted my large satchel, the five pieces of the sword, the Minotaur’s heart held in the enchanted box, and the adamantium ore. All the pieces needed to reforge it with Faoril’s magic. My stomach twisted as I led my friends onto the path.

It spiraled up the hill, the stark white chalk of the dirt contrasting with the bright green of the heather covering the mound. It was too…perfect. As we circled it, the hill felt like a perfect mound raised above the ground, a nipple thrusting from the earth.

The air buzzed with energy. I felt in my bones and rattling in my teeth. Tingles raced up my arms and legs, like I had struck my funny bone. I squirmed in the saddle, my heart beating faster and faster as we climbed higher and higher. Six months of journeying, questing, and we were almost done.

The last step before the dragon.

The sun burst out of the clouds, shining bright for the first time since we reached the Princedoms. It warmed my back as we reached the pinnacle. My breath quickened. What would we find? Would there be any guardians protecting the altar? Any last defenses we had to overcome?

I craned my neck, struggling to see over the crown of the hill and spot the altar. I rose in my stirrups. Through the grass, I caught glimpses of something gleaming bright and silver. I heeled my horse to a trot. His hooves clopped on the chalky path and…

I saw it.

The silvery altar, resembling more an anvil than something you would find in a temple’s sanctum. Bright runes were carved into it, catching the sunlight in mirrored reflections that dazzled my eyes. And there, standing by the altar, was a woman.

A woman I knew.

Lady Delilah, wearing armor similar to my own, her fiery hair spilling about her pauldrons. She was a curvy woman, her beauty overpowering, burning as bright as the altar shone beside her. I groaned at the sight of her, my girlish crush speeding the beat of my heart.

“Welcome, Angela,” Lady Delilah said, her voice throaty.

“The Flaming Woman,” Sophia breathed, quoting the Lesbius Oracle—our final companion.

“I have been waiting for you and your companions,” Lady Delilah continued, “for so very long.”

But even as girlish desire rose in me, so did anger. “Good, because I have questions. And you are going to answer them!”

To be continued…

---

Alison and Desiree are rewarded for destroying the Patriots, Sam has found the key to capturing Lucifier, and Lilith has found a weapon to destroy Mark.

The Devil’s Pact
by mypenname3000
edited by Master Ken
Copyright 2013, 2014

Chapter Forty-Nine: The Victors’ Reward

Visit my blog at www.mypenname3000.com.

Who were the Patriots? Who wrote their Manifesto? After the ravages of the Demon Wars, only speculation was left behind. The only clue that had survived was a paper that had purportedly been found in a safety deposit box in Philadelphia. On this paper were thirty-seven names, the supposed roster of the Patriots, and at the head of the list was the name Noel Heinrich. Noel had been an FBI Agent that had briefly fallen into the Tyrants’ powers, one of the many women forced to be their sex-slave. No records survived to indicate what Noel’s fate was after parting ways with the Tyrants in June of 2013.
–excerpt from ‘The History of the Tyrants’ Theocracy’, by Tina Allard

Thursday, May 6th, 2014 – Samnag Soun – Qumran

My words trailed off as Alison hung up abruptly. I hoped she would be all right. I liked Alison. Besides being a great fuck, there was an honest enthusiasm about the slut.

“What a bitch,” Candy muttered, taking the satphone from me. “She should show you more respect, Sam.”

“I think it was a little intense where she was,” I shrugged, turning back to the black, iron wall we uncovered beyond the red stone. It was a Matmown. Excitement bubbled in me as the Palestinian laborers excavated it out, searching for the door. Something important must be buried here!

“Holy Vizier,” a laborer bowed; he wore a leather choker about his neck.

The worship of Mark and Mary was spreading, and the Muslim world was plunged into as much chaos, or even more, as the Christian world . Every day more and more Muslims abandoned their faith, and violence abounded in the Middle East as the two sides clashed. Every day suicide bombers killed dozens. The laborers were watched carefully by a squad of Rangers bound to Mark. We had vetted the laborers, they all were worshipers of Mark, but the Patriots, one of Lilith’s daughters, or a fundamentalist could have infiltrated the laborers to try and harm us.

“Yes?” I asked.

“We found the door,” he answered.

Excitement bubbled through me, set my hands trembling, as I followed the man along the side of the half-buried wall to a door that had been dug out. “You are all dismissed for the day,” I told the laborer. “Candy will pay you.”

“Of course, Holy Vizier,” he bowed.

I forced myself to wait until the laborers were all gone, standing before the iron door. Candy slipped into the excavation, a grin plastered on her face, and she enthusiastically hugged and kissed me. I ran my hand through her dyed hair, half-blue and half-pink, as we kissed. I was excited, my cock hard as Candy wiggled against me. But that could wait.

“Let’s open it!” I exclaimed.

A pair of Rangers pried the door open with crowbars, the metal hinges protesting. It smelled like rust inside, and I pulled out my flashlight, shining the bright, LED light around it. There was a plinth, and an unrolled scroll resting atop it. It looked like papyrus, and I could see faded, brown writing on it. I walked forward, examining the scroll without touching it. Candy told the Rangers to wait outside, then had them close the door.

“Is it what we need?” Candy asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“It’s written in Aramaic,” I answered, starting to translate as I read. “Its style reminds me of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor.”

“Mary says our copy is incomplete,” Candy pointed out. “And look at the scroll, the right side is torn, but the left side is more even.”

She was right. “This is the end of a scroll. They used to write books on long rolls of papyrus or parchment. This looks like the final passages of a book.” I bent down and found Lucifer’s name written, and I smiled. “This is it!”

Candy squealed in excitement, throwing her arms around my neck, and kissed me exuberantly. Very exuberantly! Her lips hot, and her tongue lithe; she tasted sweet, and my cock ached for her as she ground her crotch against me. Her fingers fumbled at the loose, canvas pants I wore, popping the button off so she could snake her hand in and grasp my hardening cock. Our six month’s in Israel, perusing through dried texts, had left little time for fooling around. The dam on my lust broke; we no longer needed to deny ourselves. Drunk on our success, I let the flashlight drop to the floor, its light waving wildly about the dark, metal room as it skittered across the floor.

“Oh, Sam,” she husked, nibbling at my neck. “I need you in me! I’m so horny!”

I found the button for her pants, unsnapped it, and struggled to push them off her hips. She wiggled, helping me, and my hands found her naked ass; I gave her soft cheeks a squeeze. I burned to stick my cock in her, and to feel her tight, wet tunnel squeezing on my shaft. Her pants were tangled around her feet, stuck on her hiking boots.

“I need to be in you,” I moaned.

“Let me get my boots off,” Candy said, pulling away and letting go of my cock.

“No, get on your knees.”

“Umm, that sounds fun,” she giggled, kneeling on the hard metal floor. I knelt behind her, ignoring the hard metal, and slapped her ass. She squealed, looking back at me, her beautiful face lit on the right side by the flashlight. “Fuck me, Sam. Make me your bitch!”

I drove into her wet cunt, groaning loudly. “You are my bitch!” I groaned. “Mark gave you to me!”

“Yes, yes!” she panted. “Your bitch! I love it! I love being yours!”

I groaned, enjoying the feel of her cunt gripping my cock as I plowed in and out of her. I slapped her ass; she cooed loudly, and thrust her hips back into me. Her passion grew, and she wildly tossed her multicolored hair about.

“Fuck your bitch!” she moaned over and over. “Make me howl! Make me cum! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, yes!” Her cunt convulsed about my cock, and she threw back her head and yelled as loud as possible as her powerful orgasm exploded through her.

I smacked her ass. “Howl bitch!” I groaned. “Keep squeezing your cunt, bitch. Make me cum!”

“I’ll make you explode!” Candy husked, rolling her hips and clamping down with her cunt. “Fill me up with your cum! Yes, yes, I’ll drain you dry!”

Our flesh slapped together, my ovaries boiling with passion. I gripped her hips, and pounded her cunt, driving my cock as hard as I could into her depths. I needed to cum! I needed to release that pressure, and spill my girl-cum inside my sweet Candy. My body tensed as my eruption drew closer and closer, and then every nerve in my body exploded, and I flooded my little bitch’s cunt.

“Oh, fuck, I’m cumming again!” Candy cried, her body collapsing onto the iron floor as she quivered; a flood of my cum and hers flowed from her cunt, leaking white onto the black metal. She rolled onto her back and reached up, pulling me down and kissed me on the lips. “Mmmh, that was great,” she purred. “I needed that so bad.”

“So did I,” I sighed, resting my head on her full breasts beneath her tight t-shirt. “I love you,” I whispered sleepily.

I felt her body tense. “Really?” she asked.

I didn’t mean to say it, but I looked her in the eyes, stroked her face. “Yeah, I guess I do. Ever since France.”

She smiled, “I love you, too.”

Our kiss was spectacular, fireworks exploding between our lips, and I let myself get lost in her soft touches. I kissed every inch of her face from her chin up to her brow, getting her cute little nose in the process, then I captured her sweet lips again. So wonderful, so soft. I stroked her pale cheek with my dark finger.

“Umm, Sam,” Candy said, sounding a little embarrassed as she broke our soulful kiss, “my ass is freezing. This floor is kinda cold.”

I laughed and slipped off of her, pulling up my pants after letting my dick shrink back into a little clit. Candy stood up and wiggled her tight pants over her hips. I retrieved the flashlight, and went back to the scroll.

“Why do you follow his orders?” Candy asked suddenly, hugging me from behind.

“Whose orders?” I asked, not really paying attention as I translated the text in my head.

“Mark’s!” There was so much heat in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t I follow his orders, I’m his vizier.”

Candy turned me about. “You could be so much more.” She grasped my hands, pulling them up to her lips and gently kissing them. “Mark would be nothing without you. You could make a deal with Lucifer and take his place. Or you can make one with another demon.”

I frowned at her. “But I don’t want to,” I said.

“Are you sure you’re content with being his errand bitch?”

I swallowed, staring into her eyes. Was I content following his orders, doing all the hard work for him? I felt off-balance, not sure what to say. “Grab the scroll case,” I told her.

“Think about it,” she whispered, stroking my hands. “You could be so amazing. I could be your Mary, standing at your side, guiding you to the greatness due you.”

“Just grab the scroll case,” I told her, my thoughts whirling. Could I betray Mark? Could I have his power? Did I even want his power? Candy dug around in her satchel, and found the scroll case, a tube of plastic, and hurried over.

What should I do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark – The Mansion

Mary and I waited on the porch as Leah pulled the limo into the unfinished driveway, bringing Alison and Desiree home. Behind them, several SUV’s followed, carrying their men. While we were at the Church this morning presenting our daughter Chase to our followers, Alison and Desiree were leading their troops against the Patriots’ stronghold. Fifteen Patriots dead, and their army of golems destroyed.

I shuddered to think what would have happened if they hadn’t stumbled upon their stronghold.

The limo pulled up, and Leah hopped out, looking quite fetching in her slutty chauffeur’s outfit. Two maids walked up; one opened the limo’s door, bowing, while the other helped a tired looking Desiree out of the vehicle. Our Latina slut was dressed in tan camo pants and a tan tank top. A smile lit up her face when she saw us. Desiree turned and helped Alison out. Her pink hair was dirty. No, her entire body was covered in reddish dust, and there was a bandage on her ass and another wrapped around her ankle. She had to hop about, leaning on Desiree, and, despite the pain, she beamed at us.

“Master, Mistress!” she shouted.

“Oh, my poor, little slut,” Mary cried out, rushing to Alison and hugging her tightly. The teen was engulfed in scarlet light as Mary healed her.

“Thank you, Mistress,” she sighed in relief, “the shrapnel in my ass was killing me.”

“Good thing mi Reina healed your ass, it lost a lot of its beauty with an inch of metal sticking out of it,” Desiree teased.

Alison stuck her tongue out at her wife. “I was going to let you kiss it better, but now I’m not.”

Desiree laughed, and kissed her wife on the lips. “Liar, I bet you just want me to kiss your ass right now.”

Alison giggled, “I do. Always.”

Their soldiers were getting out of their SUV’s, all of them experienced, hard-bitten men from various special forces. They had been hunting down Warlocks across the country for the last six months. The nineteen men—one had fallen today—lined up in formation and saluted me.

“Good job, men,” I congratulated them, saluting back. “You did great work today.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” a Sergeant said, a smile creasing his serious face.

I held out my hand and shook with each of them. “Enjoy yourselves tonight,” I told them. “We have rooms for you in the mansion. Your families are on the way, and feel free to avail yourself of the staff; all of the maids have been instructed to be extra friendly.”

The Sergeant’s eye drifted to one of the maids waiting on the porch. “That sounds great, my Lord.”

I nodded, and walked over to my wife and our two sluts. “Master,” Alison exclaimed, and threw her arms around me and kissed me exuberantly. She was my first slut, the only one that asked to be my slut, and I missed her these last six months. But Desiree needed to hunt down the Warlocks, and Alison needed to help her. I pulled Desiree to me and kissed her on the lips.

“My first two sluts,” I sighed, an arm around each of them. “You two were amazing today. Let’s get you cleaned up, and then you get to spend the night with me and Mary.”

“Korina is going to watch Chase,” Mary smiled. “We’ll have all night to give you your reward.”

Alison giggled wickedly. “Umm, all night. I can think of a few things to do.”

Mary and I laughed, and led our sluts inside. All the other sluts appeared to hug Desiree and Alison, and give them kisses. “We’ve missed you,” Korina gently said, holding Silas in one arm and Chase in the other.

“At least that amazing tongue,” Lillian quipped, then waggled her tongue at Alison between two fingers, mimicking eating out a cunt. Alison pursed her lips, blowing her a kiss. Lillian laughed, then fell silent when her eyes landed on the soldiers entering after us, and they lit up with lust. “Umm, at least you brought a few rugged men to entertain me.”

We led our sluts deeper into the house, to our private suite in the east wing. Two bodyguards were posted at the entrance, and I paused to give them both a kiss and to grope their breasts. Both guards were beaming happily after my affections. In our spacious bathroom, Mary bent down and started the jacuzzi bathtub, warm water quickly filling it up.

“You’ll love it,” Mary purred. “The jets are placed just right.”

Alison gave my wife a wicked grin. “A special order then, Mistress?”

“Absolutely,” Mary giggled. “Now strip, and dump your clothes in the hamper. Lets wash all that dirt off you. You’re quite the mess, Alison.”

“It’s hard to stay clean when a five-hundred-pound clay man is chasing after you,” Alison quipped. “I don’t know how Desiree stayed so pristine.”

“I watched where I was stepping,” Desiree answered. “My clumsy Sirenita couldn’t resist stepping into a rabbit hole and breaking her ankle.”

Alison gave an indignant gasp. “I was hoping it would lead to wonderland so I could escape those monstrosities.”

“And leave me behind,” Desiree pouted.

Alison grabbed her wife’s tank top, and pulled it off to expose her large breasts. She gave them a squeeze, saying, “All you had to do was flash these delicious melons at them, and they would have been your little slaves.”

“Are you saying my breasts have magic powers?”

Alison nuzzled her face into them. “Absolutely. They’ve enchanted me from the beginning.”

“I don’t know,” I said, eyeing my wife as she pulled her dress off, her perky tits coming into view. “I would say Mary’s stacks up nicely.” I copied Alison, and nuzzled my face into my wife’s breasts.

“Mistress has an excellent pair of breasts,” Alison proclaimed, rubbing her cheek on one of Desiree’s nipples.

Mary eyed Alison, then reached out and fingered one of the slut’s pierced nipples that topped her round breasts. “You aren’t half bad.”

“I couldn’t agree more, mi Reina,” Desiree purred. “Especially with her piercings.” Desiree played with the other nipple; Alison had a huge grin on her face.

“The two women I love most are playing with my tits, what could be better?” Alison asked, kissing Mary’s then Desiree’s lips.

“What am I, a third wheel?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t that be a fourth wheel?” Mary asked, nuzzling Alison’s neck.

“Ohh, Master could stick that lovely cock of his into my cunt. That would make this better!” Alison exclaimed.

“After you’re washed,” Mary told her, then slapped her rear. “Get your filthy ass in the jacuzzi!”

“Yes, Mistress,” Alison smiled, then sighed as she sank down into the warm water. Mary hit the jets and Alison’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck! Desiree, you have got to feel this!”

Mary added some lavender-scented bath oils as Desiree slipped into the tub, and moaned, “Ohh, that’s lovely. The jets are on the seat, shooting right inside me.”

“Mary loves them,” I said. “She spent half her pregnancy in there.”

“That was for my back and ankles,” Mary protested, slipping in. “The jets were just a bonus.”

The warm water felt great as I slid in after my wife, settling down between Desiree and Alison, and not sitting on one of the jets. It just felt weird. Mary laid her head on Desiree’s shoulder, and the slut put her arm around my wife as Alison cuddled up to me. The teen’s hand found my cock beneath the water, slowly jerking me off.

“Thank you,” Mary whispered to Desiree.

“For what, mi Reina?”

“They were going to attack the Church,” Mary answered. “You two may have saved our daughter’s life, and all those other innocent people.”

“We were lucky,” Alison sighed. “If it wasn’t for Sam and her dowsing pendulum…”

Desiree shifted, “How is she?”

“She’s flying back, actually.” I said carefully; Alison stiffened for a moment in my arms, recognizing the significance of that. It wasn’t safe to say any more outside of the Matmown; anyone could be listening—Lucifer, Lilith, some other Power. We only had one hope, and it needed to be carefully protected.

“She has a nice cock,” Alison cooed, nuzzling at my neck.

“As nice as mine?”

“No, Master,” Alison purred, squeezing my dick hard as she stroked me. “No-one’s is.”

My lips found Alison’s, her pierced tongue slipping eagerly into my mouth, exploring me like a curious kitten. My hands found her breasts, giving them a firm squeeze. Her hand stroked faster on my shaft, the water splashing. But I needed more than her hand; I wanted to be inside her, to know my beautiful slut in the most intimate way possible.

“Ohh, Master,” she groaned as I pulled her onto my lap; her cunt impaled upon my dick.

I leaned back, relaxing against the side of the Jacuzzi, and watched her breasts bob as she slowly rode my cock. Beside me, Mary sat on Desiree’s lap, kissing her furiously as Desiree’s hand played between my wife’s thighs.

“Aren’t they beautiful,” Alison purred in my ear as she slid her greased cunt up and down on my cock, working me like a jackhammer. “My wife is going to make Mistress explode.”

I gave her tit a squeeze, moaning, “You’re going to make me explode!”

“Good,” she said with a satisfied smile. “That’s the point. Explode in me, Master! It’s what my cunt was made for! It’s yours!”

Mary writhed like a flower in the wind as Desiree’s fingers worked inside her. Mary broke the kiss, moaning loudly, “You delicious slut! Make me cum! Oh, fuck!” My wife buried her face into our Latina slut’s neck, and sucked hard, adding a hickey to the one Desiree already had.

“Cum for me!” Desiree hissed. “My beautiful Goddess! ¡Córrete para mi, mi Reina!”

Alison’s hungry mouth found mine, and I explored her mouth, enjoying the hard stud of her piercing rubbing against me. Her hips bucked, her cunt squeezed. I groaned my passion, and exploded into her cunt—my beautiful Alison’s cum-hungry cunt. She gasped, moaning as I fed her my seed, and she shuddered as her ecstasy burst within her.

“Oh, Master,” she sighed, settling her weight on me, and leaning her head against my shoulder.

We watched Desiree finger Mary to a violent cum, my wife shuddering so hard that she slipped off Desiree’s lap and slid into the middle of the jacuzzi. When she broached the surface, she was grinning, the hard tips of her breasts just appearing above the rippling surface; dark red that flashed amid the frothy white.

“You didn’t cum, Desiree,” I said.

She smiled. “Oh, I came! The jets took care of me.”

“Oh, Master, can we get one for our room?” Alison asked me, bouncing on my cock, her cunt squeezing life back into my shaft.

“Sure,” I told her as she writhed her hips.

Desiree pinched Alison’s ass, “Stop hogging his cock. We’re supposed to share everything.”

“Fine,” Alison pouted, pulling her cunt off my cock.

“Sit on the edge of the jacuzzi,” Mary said, “and I’ll clean all that cum out of your pussy.”

Alison practically leapt out of the jacuzzi, spreading her legs and showing off her tight slit that oozed white cum. Mary buried her face in the slut’s snatch, and the teen leaned back, moaning loudly, her breasts heaving, beads of water running across those beautiful orbs. Desiree turned away from me, her beautiful ass in my face for a moment before she sat down on my lap, on my cock, and moaned as she impaled herself upon me.

“Mi Rey,” she sighed happily.

I reached around her and found her heavy breasts; I squeezed them, enjoying their firm plumpness as Desiree slowly pumped her ass on me. I kissed her nut-brown shoulder, pushing her wet hair out of the way. Her cunt squeezed and relaxed on my cock, stoking my fires skillfully as I played with her nipples.

“Let me taste you, Mistress,” Alison begged.

Mary’s face came up sticky, a smile on her lips. “I thought you’d never ask, slut.”

She quickly straddled Alison’s face; the slut’s pink tongue glinted silver as she swiped it through my wife’s cunt. Mary shuddered in delight, then bent down and buried her face into the teen’s snatch, and the two noisily pleasured each other.

I nibbled on Desiree’s ears as she slowly made love to me. She did most of the work by squeezing her cunt on my cock, only sliding her pussy up an inch or two on my shaft. I dipped one of my hands into the water, slid down her flat stomach, and found her hard clit. Her cunt squeezed harder on my dick as I fingered her little nub, her breath quickening.

“Umm, that’s wonderful, mi Rey,” she sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, slut,” I whispered into her ear. “You and your delightful wife.”

Mary raised her face from Alison’s cunt. “What about me?”

“I love you, too, Mare,” I answered. “My naughty filly.”

“I know you love me, Mark,” Mary sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes. “I was talking to Desiree.”

“Of course I love mi Reina,” Desiree answered. “How could I not love you?”

Mary buried her face back into Alison’s cunt, and the slut’s hands gripped my wife’s plump ass, digging into her cheeks as she shuddered in pleasure beneath my wife’s assault. A muffled moan escaped the slut’s lips as she munched on my wife’s muff. It was so hot; I loved watching two women sixty-nining.

“Here it comes, Desiree,” I groaned, and then I shot my load into Desiree’s cunt.

“Ohh, that felt like a big one mi Rey,” she purred, her cunt still squeezing my cock as my finger diddled her clit.

I rubbed her clit faster and harder, feeling the slut’s cunt squeeze tight on my cock as she fidgeted. Her breathing grew faster, her moans rising in pitch, then she bent over as the pleasure spasmed through her body, and screamed wordlessly.

We watched our wives pleasure each other, driving each other to cum over and over, while Desiree rode my cock one more time, and we shared another cum. Mary and Alison were lost to their pleasures, and rolled about on the tiled floor, clutching each other, until they collapsed in a tangle of quivering limbs. After a minute of heavy breathing, they slipped back into the tub. Mary cuddled against me, and Alison against Desiree. I kissed my wife, and enjoyed the taste of Alison’s honey on her lips.

We relaxed in the jacuzzi for another half hour; some maids brought champagne for the sluts and me, and an iced tea for Mary—she was nursing, and the alcohol would get into her breast milk. We enjoyed our cold, refreshing drinks and hot, relaxing water. The maids who served our drinks disrobed: a curvy brunette named Abigail, a sultry Hindu woman named Karishma, a MILF with green eyes named Pearl, and a petite Japanese girl named Tomoyo, and they began to bathe us. Alison enjoyed Abigail’s soapy, pillowy tits massaging her back, while Mary laid down on the tiles and let Tomoyo writhe her entire soapy body atop her. I found the way Desiree’s nut-brown skin and Karishma’s red-brown skin rubbing together, covered in frothy soap, was hypnotic as Pearl washed my cock with her soapy breasts.

“Master, you sure know how to live,” Alison purred after we all had been washed.

“I’m honored you enjoyed it,” Abigail smiled to Alison as she rubbed a terry-cloth towel across the slut’s body. “You tasted heavenly.”

Pearl was drying me off, my cum still staining her big tits. Mary was already slipping into the bedroom, trailed by Desiree. Alison pulled away before Abigail could quite finish drying her, eager for some more fun, a broad smile on her lips. I was glad both my sluts were enjoying themselves; they had been so dour the last few times we had actually seen them. They had earned some happiness.

“You did great, sluts,” I praised the maids, and they all curtsied, despite being nude; they all looked both simultaneously erotic and comical as they held up imaginary skirts. “We’ll want dinner in an hour.”

“Of course, Master,” Pearl murmured. She was the chief maid, and barked orders at the other three. The maids scurried off, Abigail and Tomoyo holding hands.

Mary was reclined on our bed, massaging her breasts. “Are you okay, mi Reina?”

“Just filling up,” my wife answered. “I need to relieve the pressure. Any volunteers?” Mary’s smile was arched and naughty; Alison practically threw herself on the bed, grabbed a nipple with her mouth, and nursed.

Desiree stretched out on the other side, teased Mary’s dusky-red nipple, and a droplet of white milk appeared. Desiree’s tongue gently lapped up the drop. She cooed in pleasure, “It’s so sweet.”

“There’s plenty more,” Mary said, stroking her damp hair.

“Ohmygod!” Alison squealed, sounding like the teenager she is. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, it’s delicious, Mistress!” Then she buried her mouth back into Mary’s tit, and I could hear her sucking hungrily as I watched.

Desiree latched onto the other nipple, sucking gracefully as her wife pigged out on the other tit. Alison’s shapely ass wiggled about as she sucked noisily at my wife’s breast, her brown asshole winking at me between her pale cheeks. It beckoned to me.

I answered its call, kneeling behind Alison. My hands rubbed through her pussy, coating my fingers with her sticky honey, and smeared them on my cock. I gathered more juices, and shoved them into her tight ass. Alison glanced back at me, and smiled with milky lips, before diving back into her feast.

“Fuck the slut’s ass,” Mary cooed.

I slid home into Alison’s tight ass; the little slut writhed her hips, and squeezed down on my cock. I started to pump slowly, reveling in the feel of her hot depths, my balls gently slapping against her taint.

Mary emerald eyes flashed at me as pleasure radiated through her body, shifting about as if she lay on hot coals, unable to stay still for long. “Oh, God!” she gasped. “My pussy is so wet! I need something! Touch me, lick me, anything! I’m on fire!”

Desiree smiled, whispered, “I haven’t tasted mi Reina’s beautiful pussy tonight.”

“Do it!” Mary hissed. “Eat me out!”

Desiree kissed down my wife’s lush body, licking her belly button, before she reached the fiery heart Mary styled her pubic hair into. Desiree descended lower, finding Mary’s pink flower, and drank deeply from her nectar. The effect on my wife was electric: her back arched, and she moaned her orgasm loudly. Our slut drank her pussy juices as eagerly as she had drunk her breast milk.

Alison’s ass was tight and hot as I reamed her, my eyes going back and forth from the teen’s lips eagerly nursing at my wife’s breast, to my other slut eagerly nursing at Mary’s cunt. Then Desiree latched onto my wife’s little clit, and sucked hard. My wife shook as a second orgasm crashed through her.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mary gasped. “You filthy sluts! I love you both!”

I picked up the speed, pounding Alison’s ass harder, my eyes feasting on the tableau laid out before me. Alison moaned about Mary’s nipple, slamming her ass against my thrusts. Mary’s hand reached out, and her fingers brushed my balls as she searched for Alison’s cunt. When she thrust them in, the teen tightened her ass on my dick, and I could feel my wife’s questing fingers as she explored the slut’s tunnel.

Mary’s fingers found the right spot; Alison exploded like a firework, her ass clenching down so tight it became hard to thrust my cock inside her. The pleasure she gave me was intense, stoking the fire in my balls as I reamed her vice-like ass. I slammed two more times into her, then groaned as I spilled my cum inside her bowels.

I slapped Alison’s ass, saying, “Good fuck.”

“Thank you, Master,” she sighed.

I crawled to the other side of Mary, and snuggled up against my wife. She was shuddering in pleasure, Desiree’s tongue sending her into orgasm after orgasm. I kissed her lips, then bent down and sucked her nipple into my mouth. I loved her milk, so warm and sweet as it filled my mouth. Mary’s hand wrapped around my head, stroking my face as she moaned in delight.

“I love you, Mark,” she whispered as I nursed, her hands stroking my face.

I stopped nursing, and gave my wife a milk-filled kiss. “Love you,” I whispered, then went back to enjoying her breasts.

When dinner came, Mary’s breasts had been drained by the three of us, and the two sluts were licking my cock clean of Alison’s ass while Mary cuddled up beside me, happily exhausted from her multiple orgasms.

“Thank you, Master,” Alison smiled, my cum dripping from her face. “This has been the best night we’ve had in forever.”

Desiree nodded happily. “It’s always good to spend time with your family.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday, July 16th, 2014 – Fiona Cavanagh – The Ruins of Babylon, Hillah, Iraq

We watched Abby as she examined the ruins, crumbling white walls jutting out of the yellow-white sand. It was night, the air cool after the blistering heat of the day. Cars passed on the nearby highway and, off in the distance, sirens could be heard. Probably another suicide bombing. The Muslims were always clashing with the Miraclists in the Middle East. Men fighting over their stupid differences, while women were caught in-between.

Abby sniffed at the air, moving with a sinuous grace. She was a Dabbat, a serpent-like daughter of Lilith with affinity for the earth. She could move rocks with her mind, using them as weapons, or burrow her body quickly through dirt and stone. She was brown-skinned, her eyes yellow and slitted like a serpent’s, and there was absolutely no hair on the woman—not on her head and none between her legs. It lent her an exotic appeal, sparking arousal in me as she gracefully moved across the earth.

“This is the place,” she hissed, her voice sibilant, then she dived into the sand and smoothly disappeared in a cloud of brown dust. This was the seventh ruin in the Middle East we’ve been to over the last six months. Whatever it was that we searched for, Lilith had only confided in Abby.

“Come wait in the tent,” Thamina called.

I glanced back and saw my wife peering out of the small pup tent she had erected, her naked breasts shining in the moonlight. I smiled and quickly moved to the tent—Abby did say it would take a while. And what better way to pass the time?

Thamina attacked me when I entered the tent, her mouth hot as she pulled me to the sleeping bag, the air mattress crinkling beneath us. “Hmm, someone’s horny, eh, Mina?”

“Get that shirt off, husband,” my wife husked.

She insisted on calling me husband, even though I was a woman. Well, mostly a woman; I could transform my clit into a cock, and that made me the man in our marriage as far as Thamina was concerned. She still clung to the prejudices of her Muslim upbringing; to her, it wasn’t quite homosexuality if she pretended I was the ‘man’.

Thamina attacked my breasts the moment my shirt was off, sucking my hard nipples into her lips, forcing me to lie down on a rolled out sleeping bag. The moonlight glowed weakly through the fabric, and I noticed dark symbols drawn on the inside. Why would Thamina ward our tent? My question was lost as her teeth nibbled lightly on my breast; I moaned loudly.

Thamina suddenly released my breast, spun about and straddled my face, her furry cunt descending to my lips, and my tongue eagerly found her slit. She tasted tangy and sweet, a delicious combination; I explored her flower, probing my tongue into every delicate, pink fold. Her black down tickled my lips; Mark made us shave our cunts, but we let them grow out. Men lust after youth, and delight in a smooth pussy. But we were women, and we enjoyed each other’s natural beauty.

“My beautiful husband,” Thamina purred as she shoved my pants roughly down my legs and buried her face in my red-furred snatch.

I moaned into her pussy as she started licking mine. Sometimes Thamina wanted my cock, and other nights she wanted to love me when I was all woman. I didn’t care; so long as she loved me I was happy with her choice. Her tongue pushed into my hole, fucking me as her chin bumped my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through me. Goddess, I was going to cum fast the way the vixen was working my pussy.

Well, two could play that game.

My mouth found her clit, sucking her little bud into my lips as my nose buried into her slit, every breath filled with her enchanting aroma. Thamina moaned in pleasure into my pussy, and then I was flooded with her juices, thick and sticky, as they covered my face. I drank them down, savoring her flavor. She slipped a finger inside me, wiggling it about my tight tunnel. I exploded. I bucked beneath my wife, screaming my pleasure into the night air.

When I opened my eyes, coming off my wonderful orgasm, I realized my wife had flipped around, her lips at my ears. “We need to talk quietly,” she whispered.

I tensed. “About what?”

“Do you think we made the right decision?”

“What, to come out to the ruins of Baghdad and find the dagger for Lilith?” I asked, foreboding filling my heart and causing it to beat faster.

“No, serving Lilith.”

“What choice did we have?” I asked her. “She’s protecting us from Mark.”

“Maybe,” Thamina said. “But, what about what she’s done? My daughter helped to kill billions.”

“Men,” I said dismissively, then I saw the hurt in Thamina’s eyes, the guilt.

“Humans, like us,” Thamina countered. How had I never seen the wounds in her soul?

I frowned. “I thought you hated men. That’s why you volunteered to lead the searches.” Many women in Seattle foolishly tried to hide their men, whether they were their husbands, sons, brothers, fathers, or even complete strangers. Thamina lead the search, trying to uncover the women who hid the vermin and smuggled them out of the city.

“You ever wonder why I don’t find that many men?” she asked.

I didn’t want to know the answer.

“I help them to escape. Only a few get captured, sacrifices to keep Lilith placated.” She kissed my fingers. “I just couldn’t sit by and do nothing. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I guess,” I frowned. It was easy to think of men as nothing but animals, creatures not worthy of compassion or mercy.

“I think we chose the wrong side, Fiona.”

“And Mark’s the right side? He made us his slaves?” I demanded, my voice rising in anger.

“Shush, Abby may be listening,” Thamina cautioned. “And Mark never killed anyone.”

“He killed plenty when he attacked us last November.”

“We attacked him first. Lilith sent her Dimme to kill him, and Luka to kill his Vizier. Lilith started this war and…” She took a breath. “And she can’t possibly win. Half the world follows them! He has the US Military under his control!” Whatever levy holding back her doubts had broken, and her words spilled out like a hissing flood. “And not to mention the European Militaries! We’re outnumbered and outmatched. He has nukes, cruise missiles, predator drones, and who knows what else! She’s deluded herself into thinking she can win!”

“You want us to side with Mark, is that it?” I couldn’t hide the disgust in my voice.

“No, I want us to survive.” She wrapped her arms tight about me. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” I told her. “ I can understand helping the men to escape, but we can’t betray our Goddess.”

“I’ll follow you, husband, if you want to stay. But please think about it. Are you really okay with what Lilith is doing?”

Was I okay with it? I thought I was, but I could see the guilt in Thamina’s eyes. Had she been hiding this from me this entire time? Hurt filled me; my wife didn’t share her feelings with me. I looked up at the tent ceiling, my mind whirling, and I saw her symbols. She had warded the tent, she’s afraid of being overheard, of Lilith finding out about her doubts. I hugged my wife tight.

I shivered. What would Lilith do if she found out?

Kill us both.

Fear gripped my heart; what the hell had we gotten ourselves into?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday, July 17th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – The Mansion

“It’s aney, Alison,” Sam said, making a guttural A sound. “It’s a glottal stop, like the pause between ‘oh-oh’. Aney laged helel ben shakar ’em penyenh zeh. Kevhev yheyh mevgebl.” Sam made the Hebrew sound so easy.

“Why can’t we just use English,” Alison complained. “Summoning rituals work in English.”

“Lucifer will be hard enough to trap; it has to be in Hebrew,” Sam admonished. “And it has to be perfectly. If any of you do not pronounce it exactly right, the spell will not be strong enough to bind him and it’ll backfire, destroying the diamond.”

We were practicing the trap to bind Lucifer, and a great deal of progress had been made in the two months since Sam returned. All the pieces were ready: a golden rod topped with a diamond the size of my fist and carved with Hebrew words, and five brass rods tipped with smaller diamonds, and also carved with Hebrew. Mary would be the focus, holding the gold rod, and five others would wield the brass rods, stand in a circle about Lucifer and Mary, and chant Sam’s phrase. My job would be to fight Lucifer, and keep him contained in the circle long enough for the ritual to be cast. Then he would be trapped in the diamond atop the gold staff.

The five who would wield the brass rods were: Sam, Candy, Alison, Desiree, and Jessica. Sam and Candy were the best at Hebrew—Candy had spent the last year learning it from Sam—and Alison and Desiree had the most experience in combat. Out of the rest of the sluts, Jessica was the most unflappable. Xiu, Korina, Lillian, Violet, April, and Willow were also learning the ritual. They would be backups if anything should happen to one of the primaries. I had learned in the last year that things happened in combat—people would get hurt or could die.

We had to be ready to perform the ritual if it was ever necessary to take out Lilith. In a perfect world, she would be content with Seattle, and Lucifer would never be unleashed—but this wasn’t a perfect world. It was far from it. Killing Lilith would only be an absolute last resort. If it came to conflict between us again—and it would, I could feel it in my gut—we aimed to capture her. So once a week, we would meet in the Matmown until all the sluts could say the phrase flawlessly. They were getting better.

“Again,” Sam said, walking around the Matmown in the basement of our mansion, listening to Mary and each of the sluts as they struggled to say the Hebrew words. Hebrew had a number of sounds that were not found in English, and were hard to learn properly. Particularly the letter aleph, the glottal stop that sounded like a cut off A.

Sam was a patient teacher, a smile on her round face as she corrected Mary and the sluts’ pronunciation. She encouraged everyone, and even had me practicing. After an hour, Sam was satisfied with the progress. “If you have free time, come into the Matmown to practice,” Sam said. “Especially you, Lillian.”

“Maybe I need some one-on-one time,” Lillian husked. “You could show me just how to use my mouth.”

“I can think of a few ways to use your mouth,” Candy giggled, then slapped Lillian on the ass.

Mary kissed me on the lips. “I have to go do the Portuguese broadcast, then I have my spa appointment. I want to be perfect for our anniversary.”

“How could you not be perfect?” I asked her.

She kissed me a second time. “Thanks, hun.”

We were going to Hawaii for our one year anniversary. Sometimes it seemed like a lifetime had passed since our wedding. Mary had a surprise planned for me, and had been making a few trips over there the last month to get things ready. After the honeymoon, my friend Chris was getting married, and then we would be off to the Middle East. It was time to stop the fighting. Too many people were dieing for us over there. We owed it to them to intercede.

I opened the iron door, hinges squealing in protest. Abigail, a curvy maid, waited outside, holding little Chase. I scooped my daughter up in my arms, and smiled as she reached out with her tiny hands and grasped my finger. She was so beautiful. Mary gave our daughter a kiss on the forehead, before sweeping off.

“Master,” Violet, my secretary, said, “The President is waiting in your office, he wants to talk about the Sapphicits in Idaho.”

I looked at my daughter, cooing, “Do you want to come watch Daddy work?”

Chase gurgled.

“Alright, let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lilith – City Hall, Seattle

There was a knock at my door.

I sat in my office at City Hall. It was the former Mayor’s office, and I had removed every trace of that filthy man’s presence from it, replacing it with the ornamentation befitting my station: a rich, mahogany desk carved with depictions of my Godesshood; a plush, leather seat; lush ferns in potted plants flanked the windows; precious urns looted from the Seattle Art Museum; along with numerous paintings, and a gorgeous, Persian rug that lay before my desk. Riches that would have made any King of Babylon or Egypt weep.

“Come in,” I purred.

Lana entered, full breasted, with wide hips. The blonde woman was gorgeous, for a human, and motherhood had only ripened her beauty. She was the first woman to bear another woman’s child. She and Chantelle had named the daughter Lily, and their little baby was proof that my vision of a world without men was viable.

“My majestic Goddess,” she purred, and prostrated herself before my desk. She was growing better at this.

“Rise, my priestess,” I murmured.

A smile filled her round face. “Fiona and Thamina have returned, and Abby has asked to see you.”

“Send her in,” I ordered, excitement fluttering in my chest. This would be the seventh ruin searched, but the first time Abby had asked to see me. “And your wife if she waits outside.”

“She’s with Lily,” Lana replied. “Our daughter has a touch of colic.”

“Very well.”

Lana disappeared for a moment, then returned with Abby. The Dabbat walked with a sinuous grace, a white bundle in her hand. My heart quickened. They found it so fast? I expected the search to drag on for months yet. So much of the Ancient world was lost, so much destroyed and buried. Abby knelt, holding her bundle up before me in supplication. I motioned my hand. Lana took the bundle, and walked over to me, bowing her head as she handed it over.

My hand shaking, I pulled apart the white cloth that bound the dagger. The blade was ugly, roughly made from cold iron. It was one of three Mispach, the bloody daggers forged by the first murderer, Cain, from a star that fell in the lands of Nod.

“I am well pleased with you, daughter,” I smiled at Abby, gazing down at her naked, brown body. She was sinuous and beautiful, entirely hairless. Her slitted eyes stared at me with hope. I reached out, stroked her smooth cheek. She shuddered, hissing her pleasure as she climaxed. “You have earned your reward.”

With a thought, my clothes vanished into red smoke, and I summoned my cock. Abby’s long, thin tongue flickered out at the sight. I pushed her across my desk, her round ass staring at me. Her cunt was dripping wet, filling the air with an earthy musk. I speared her; she came, her cunt writhing around my shaft.

I glanced at Lana, my ass pumping away. “Go find Haja and bring her to me.”

“At once.” Lana bowed and left.

I plowed into my daughter’s tight sheath. She hissed as her body writhed. Her back arched in ways that would break a human’s back, lithe and sinuous. She kept cumming, overwhelmed by my Lust. I drank in her passion. It felt as delightful as her cunt spasming upon my cock.

“Yes, yes!” she hissed. “I’m your whore, mother!”

“You are!” I groaned. “My wonderful, delightful whore!”

I increased the Lust flowing into her. She screamed, her back twisting around. I grabbed a small tit, pinching her dark nipple between my finger. I kept pounding her snatch. She never stopped cumming. My orgasm built quickly; Haja would be here soon, and I allowed myself to flood her cunt with my black seed.

“Thank you, thank you!” hissed Abby, my cum leaking out of her pussy as she collapsed to the floor. “I love you, Mother!” Her long tongue licked at my feet; I savored the wet, wonderful sensation.

“I love you, too, daughter,” I lied; my daughters were merely tools to increase my power, and no matter how useful you found your tools, you didn’t love them. “You are dismissed, Abby.”

My daughter stood, bowed, and stumbled out of the room past Lana. I hadn’t noticed my priestess return. Her eyes glanced down to my still hard cock drenched in Abby’s juices, lust shining in those blue depths.

“Haja is on her way, my Goddess,” Lana bowed. Her eyes flickered to the dagger sitting on my desk, full of apprehension. “What is that?”

I picked up the dagger, and answered her question: “Mark Glassner’s death.”

I nicked my finger with the blade. A single, dark bead of blood welled from the cut and landed upon the black metal. For a moment the dagger burned red, drinking in my blood, and binding itself to my life. I could feel the cursed thing like an ugly, throbbing wound upon my forehead.

“A single cut from this blade will kill any man or woman in minutes,” I explained. “Nothing can heal its wounds once it has been bound.”

“Nothing?” Lana asked. “Not even the Tsariy ritual?”

“Not even that,” I answered, then hesitated. “Well, no, my life is bound into the blade, and only my life’s blood could heal the wounded.”

“I see,” Lana replied carefully. “Isn’t that taking a risk? Shouldn’t I be bound to it? Or one of your daughters?”

I smiled at her. “No, it’s more satisfying this way.”

I stared at the blade. In November, Mark would stand before me, and I would get to watch him die, writhing in pain, helpless like the worm he is. It would be so satisfying knowing that I was his only salvation, that if he wasn’t writhing in pain, all he had to do to survive was kill me. And then the world would be mine; I would cleanse it of every single, last man—purged as clean of the vermin as Seattle.

There was a knock; Haja entered, thin and pale, as if she had no color—except her eyes, they were an ever-shifting rainbow. She was an Aja, capable of manipulating light, and could bend it about her and hide in the distortion, or she could focus the light to a bright beam that would slice through almost anything. Chantelle called her power a ‘laser’—one of the many filthy things invented by men in this time.

I carefully wrapped the dagger, and handed it to Haja. “Take this to Ziki,” I commanded. “Do not cut yourself with the blade.”

“Yes, Mother,” Haja answered, her voice little more than a whisper.

“And do not be seen! I will be most displeased!”

“I won’t, Mother!” She trembled in fear before me.

“Good, go,” I smiled.

As Aja left my office, I saw Crystal waiting outside. The next group of women I needed to impregnate must be ready. Every woman in Seattle had to submit to my affections and bear me a daughter. When November came, and Mark Glassner lay dead at my feet, my army would be as numerous as the stars in the sky and would swarm across the world.

To be continued…

---

Cindy and her mom are offered the chance to serve Mark and Mary, they just have to pass their interview.

The Devil’s Pact Servants’ Chronicles
by mypenname3000
edited by Master Ken
Copyright 2014

Chapter One: Cindy’s Interview

Visit my blog at www.mypenname3000.com.

Notes: This takes place during Chapters 34 and 40.

Monday, September 2nd, 2013 – Cindy Mayflower – South Hill, WA

I lounged naked in Doctor Willow’s exam room, enjoying the afterglow of my orgasm. My mother moaned and gasped beneath Doctor Willow. The Doctor had a thick strap-on and was fucking Mom hard. Our Monday gynecological visits were the best part of our week. Somehow, during the last month-and-a-half, we had become more than Doctor Willow’s patients—we had become her lovers. I took a deep breath, the air filled with the scent of pussy. Mine, mom’s, Doctor Willow’s, and Nurse Hayfa’s cunts all mixed together to form this wonderful, intoxicating fragrance.

I frowned; it was a familiar scent, but something was missing. I took another deep breath, trying to place what was missing. “You don’t use those sweet-smelling incense anymore,” I suddenly realized, blurting out my words without thinking.

Beautiful nurse Hayfa—busy washing the dildo Doctor Willow had just fucked me with—turned and smiled, “You and your mom are comfortable enough now, you don’t need them to relax.” Her accent was exotic and musical.

She was naked, her dusky skin lustrous. My eyes fell to her ass—beautiful, full, round, heart-shaped. I wanted to kneel behind her, spread her cheeks, and taste her. As she washed, she shifted her hips, waggling that gorgeous butt invitingly at me.

“Fuck me! Make me cum, Doctor Willow!” Mom moaned.

I glanced over to see Doctor Willow’s cinnamon ass, also nicely shaped, pumping up and down as she humped my mother. It was part of our treatment for Prevarication Syndrome. I’m not sure how having a dildo pleasuring us—especially attached to the beautiful Doctor Willow—cured it; I just knew how much I loved the treatments.

My gaze was drawn back to Hayfa. I couldn’t resist that ass. I had read the Odyssey last year in English, and that ass was a siren, calling to me. Like Odysseus’s crew, I was helplessly drawn to Hayfa’s gorgeous rear. I walked across the small exam room—echoing with Mom and Doctor Willow’s passion—and knelt behind the Arabic nurse, and gave each cheek a quick peck.

“What are you doing back there, amira?” Hayfa asked. Amira was Hayfa’s nickname for me; it meant ‘princess’ and it made me feel so special when she said it.

I didn’t answer, deciding to let my actions speak for me, and spread her dusky cheeks. Her asshole was almost the same shade of brown as her skin, blending in. I let my tiny tongue gently taste the sour of her ass. I probed her wrinkled anus with my tongue, then pressed it forward into her asshole like a little dildo. Her bowels were hot and rough, twitching about my invading tongue

“Oh, you delightful sharmoota!” she moaned. “Tongue my ass!”

She gasped as I slipped two fingers into her drenched cunt. The nurses always had to watch Doctor Willow make love to Mom and me, and I always felt so bad for them that they didn’t get to enjoy themselves. I worked my tongue as deep into her sour ass as I could while my hand busied with her pussy. My thumb found her clit and she gasped, clenching her ass about my tongue.

“Oh, yes, stir me up!” she purred. “Telhas bokhshi!”

I fingered her faster as I worshiped her tasty, sour ass. Her breath grew more ragged, her pants higher pitched. Her hips writhed and shook. She let out a low, throaty moan, and her entire body went momentarily rigid. Juices flooded the hand fingering her pussy as a powerful orgasm rippled through her.

“Thank you, amira,” she panted. “That was so nice.”

She turned, pulled me to my feet, and gave me a loving kiss. “You’re welcome,” I beamed at her, proud that I had made her cum.

I turned just in time to watch Doctor Willow cum with Mom, the two shrieking loudly. Their breasts—one pair ivory, the other cinnamon—mashed together, nipples kissing. Doctor Willow collapsed on my mom, nuzzling her neck as the pair luxuriated in their afterglows. After a moment, the Doctor sighed, kissed my mom on the lips, then climbed off of her.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mom breathed; her body flushed.

“It was my pleasure,” Doctor Willow answered as Nurse Hayfa began removing the strap-on from her. “How are your jobs going, Pearl?”

“Terrible,” Mom answered, “Neither one gives me enough hours, and I don’t have enough time to go home between them. They’re running me ragged, and I can barely pay the bills.”

Doctor Willow smiled, “I have an exciting opportunity for you and your daughter.”

“What?” Mom asked, her voice a mix of hope and caution.

“The Living Gods are going to need servants,” she answered, stepping out of the harness. “I don’t know exactly when, but you and your daughter are just the sort of candidates they’re looking for.” I felt heat flush through me as Doctor Willow’s considering gaze fell on my body.

“When would it start?” Mom asked.

“The interviews probably won’t be for a while,” Willow answered. “The mansion is months away from being completed, but the Gods may need servants sooner than that. So I’ve been instructed to offer retainers to keep potential candidates available at a moment’s notice. You would each be paid $3000 a month.”

“$3000!” Mom spluttered. “Each?”

The doctor nodded. “You’d just have to agree to a few stipulations. Hayfa, the contracts.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Hayfa murmured, my eyes following her ass as she swayed across the room. She produced several pieces of papers and handed one to each of us.

I examined it. I’d have to keep in shape—healthy eating and daily exercise—and attend weekly church service at one of the Living Churches springing up like mold across the Puget Sound. I blinked at the last stipulation. I would have to be willing to let the Gods, both Mark and Mary, use my body for sex, whether with Them or a third party of their choice. If hired, I would have to swear my soul to the Gods in exchange for eternal youth and their love.

Mom bit her lip, glancing at me. “This sounds like we would be…what? Their bang-maids?”

I flushed, picturing the God, Mark; He was handsome, young, with piercing blue eyes, and His Goddess was perhaps the most beautiful woman in existence. My pussy moistened, thinking about lying with a God. He’s like a prince from a fairy tail—the perfect man. I was dying to try out a real cock. I was too afraid to let any of the boys who went to Rogers High School make love to me, but Mark… I would definitely let Him ravish me. Sometimes, when I masturbate with my dildo—part of my Prevarication Syndrome treatment—I would imagine it was Mark making gentle love to me.

Why did I have to be sick the day Mark came to my High School last June? It seemed like He had ravished half of my female classmates. It was more proof of His Godhood; what normal man could fuck that many women in a day, let alone get an entire locker room full of girls to have an orgy with Him. All the girls He had fucked talked about how amazing He was. I could have been one of those girls if it wasn’t for the darn stomach flu!

“Exactly,” Doctor Willow answered. “They’re very lustful beings, and all of those who serve them have agreed to this.”

“Even you?” Mom asked.

“Even me.”

Mom chewed on her lip. “Eternal youth…is that possible?”

“They’re Gods; anything is possible.”

“Why do they need my daughter, she’s only sixteen?”

“I’m old enough,” I interrupted. “You don’t mind when Doctor Willow or Nurse Hayfa touches me.”

“That’s for your treatments,” Mom pointed out.

“He’s so handsome,” I sighed, “I wouldn’t mind, Mom. Not with Him.”

“You’re a package deal,” Doctor Willow said. “He’ll love the mother-daughter combination.”

Mom kept chewing her lip; I was afraid she was going to gnaw it off. “Please, Mom,” I wheedled. “You wouldn’t have to work those crappy jobs. We’d have more than enough money!”

She stared at me for the longest time. “Fine,” she sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday, October 2nd, 2013 – Cindy Mayflower – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA

Our lives had changed when Mom and I had signed our contracts. Doctor Willow had immediately handed us each a check for $3000. It was one of those fancy business checks, larger than the ones Mom used to pay rent. Mom was able to quit her jobs, and we started hitting the gym and eating healthy. No more McDonalds for dinner!

Like most of the country, last Saturday we had fallen under the evil Brandon’s spell, forced to think he was a god. Luckily, two days ago Mark and Mary defeated him and revealed their glory—naked and wreathed in flames, the perfect embodiment of human strength and beauty—to the entire world. Then last night, Doctor Willow had called, saying an SUV would arrive to take us to our maid interviews with our Gods. I was so excited to finally serve Them.

Only if I passed my interview.

I couldn’t sleep for the longest time; too afraid that Mark would hate me. He would take one look at my budding breasts—I barely even needed to wear a training bra—and my flat ass and think I was too young and childish instead of my mature sixteen. I was a junior in high school, and far more mature than the girls my age. I just wished I looked it! And why did I have these stupid braces! They made me seem eleven!

At precisely 9:00AM, two women dressed like slutty cops knocked on our door. A sandy-blonde beauty, her round breasts about to fall out of her half-opened bodice, smiled at me when I opened the door. “I’m 23, and this is 24,” she said, motioning to the dusky-skinned cop next to her—she looked similar to the Arabic nurse Hayfa. Both had silver chokers about their necks inscribed with a number, and a curious, bronze amulet dangling between their tits. “We’re looking for Pearl and Cindy Mayflower.”

“I’m Cindy,” I smiled, trying to hide my nervousness.

The Arabic 24 eyed me. “He is going to to eat you up, balim.” I didn’t know what to say to that, but it brought a searing blush to my cheeks. 24 grinned, nodding her head. “He is definitely going to devour you.”

“Is it them?” Mom shouted from the back of the house.

“Yes,” I answered.

I heard her mutter a bad word. “I’ll be just a minute!”

“We need to search your daughter anyways, ma’am!” 23 shouted back.

“So start stripping,” 24 ordered, her tone firm, commanding.

“I…what?” I asked.

“If you’re not bound, we need to search you before you can be allowed into the Hotel,” 23 answered.

Bound? Where they going to tie me up? “Okay.”

I was wearing a new dress, cute and sexy, that laced up in the back, and cupped what little breasts I had, pushing them up to suggest I had some cleavage. It made me seem older. I reached behind me, starting to fumble for the lace, when 23 slapped my hands away and started unlacing me herself. The dress fell down, and underneath I wore only a garter belt and white stockings.

“Oh, he is definitely going to eat you up,” 24 purred, groping me. “Especially with those braces. Umm, balim, after your interview, we can get together. I get off at six.”

I flushed at her directness. “Maybe,” I squeaked. Was she wanting to have sex with me?

“You’re going to love serving them, the benefits are definitely worth it.”

Mom came out to see the two cops running their hands all over my body, sliding fingers into my intimate spots, and tweaking my nipples. I was flushed and horny when the two cops finished, the Arabic cop licking her fingers that had just been wiggling inside my pussy. They turned to my mother and quickly stripped her, hands fondling her inmate places.

I reached for my dress to put it on. 24 saw me, objected, “The Gods would rather see you naked. Uniforms will be provided if you’re hired.”

I flushed and nodded. Mom moaned and groaned, and was as flustered as I was when they finished their ‘search’. I was pretty sure it was unnecessary; more for the depraved enjoyment of the cops then to protect the Gods. Well, we agreed to be the Gods’ living sex toys, so I should get used to being fondled. Besides, it was kinda exciting, and my pussy was definitely aching to be ‘searched’ some more.

I fidgeted the entire ride, my poor pussy on fire. When we arrived at the Murano Hotel in downtown Tacoma, it was cold outside, and my nipples became as hard as diamonds when I stepped out of the SUV. Just a hundred feet away, the crowd of pilgrims that filled the street could see our nudity, and a great cry went through them. They must know that we were here to please the Gods and they were jealous of our good fortune. Many held signs proclaiming their willingness to be the Gods’ lovers. It was exciting, all these eyes lusting after me, and if it wasn’t for the cold wind whipping my blonde tresses, I would have been tempted to stay and bask in their attention.

Two more bodyguards flanked the doors, black rifles slung about their shoulders, and opened them up for us. It was blessedly warm inside, and my teeth stopped chattering almost immediately. About a dozen naked women sat nervously in the lobby, fidgeting in their seats. Soft chatter filled the air, like the warble of a flock of birds, going silent every time there was the slightest disturbance, looking around for the source, before they resumed their chirping. They were all beautiful, from as young as sixteen or seventeen, to as old as their late thirties. Most were in their twenties. I recognized many as patients of Doctor Willow, suffering from Prevarication Syndrome like Mom and me.

Doctor Willow and her receptionist Jayda entered the lounge, a clipboard in their hands. “Asuka, Tomoyo,” the doctor read off her clipboard. A naked, Japanese teen—long hair as black as night, newly-budding breasts, and creamy, olive skin—stood up. The Doctor led her up to the elevator.

They were going alphabetical by last name; when one interview was finished, they would call down for the next interviewee, one at a time, although once a pair of sisters went up together. The interviewees were always escorted by either Jayda or Doctor Willow. Usually the elevator would return with only the doctor or her receptionist, but sometimes a sobbing woman would walk out, muttering, “I couldn’t do it,” or, “It’s too much to ask of a person.”

“Mayflower, Cindy and Pearl,” Jayda called. She was all smiles as she led us into the elevator. “Don’t be scared, Cindy, they won’t hurt you.”

“Did you sell your soul to them?” I asked, a tremble passing through my body.

She smiled, nodding, “It’s quite pleasant to do, but you’ll be bound to them forever. Even in death. But the rewards…” Her smile grew ecstatic. “The rewards are worth it.”

The elevator seemed to take forever, moving slowly up to the top floor of the hotel, and a swarm of bees seemed to have invaded my tummy, buzzing around in the tight space and stinging me. The bile was rising up sour into my throat; I wanted nothing more than to empty my belly of the swarm. The elevator slowed, lurched, stopped; a bell dinged, and the doors slid slowly open.

Jayda led us through the hallway and Tomoyo, dressed in a french maid’s outfit, exited a room, carrying cleaning supplies. I flushed when I saw just how revealing the dress was: the blouse was transparent, Tomoyo’s dark nipples clearly visible through the black material, and the skirt was scandalously short; so short I was sure her bum would be visible if she bent over.

“Is that what we’ll be wearing?” Mom asked.

Jayda smiled. “The Gods delight in the beauty of their followers.”

“And why aren’t you dressed like that?” Mom asked pointedly.

“I don’t serve our Gods directly, I serve Willow,” Jayda answers. “She has a lot more…independence, and chooses how the nurses and I dress. Willow is at the same level as the Holy Sluts, though she isn’t one of them.”

“I see,” Mom answered, sounding a little puzzled.

“She’s a special case,” Jayda shrugged. “She once was a Holy Slut, but retired and serves the Gods in other ways.”

“Like finding beautiful women to serve them?” Mom asked. “Under the guise of free medicine.”

“Exactly,” the nurse answered. “Plus, she enjoys molesting her patients.”

“Molesting…” Mom’s eyes widened. “Prevarication Syndrome. It’s not real?”

“Nope! We used a little bit of magic to relax you two.” It clicked in my head; the incense. It always relaxed me and made me want to do whatever the doctor ordered. “Don’t worry about that, it’s just how things are done. Dr. Willow earned her rewards, and now you two are about to earn yours. Unless you have a problem with that?”

My mom glanced at me. “I guess it doesn’t matter how we got here, it just matters that we have the opportunity to serve Them.”

Jayda patted her arm. “That’s the spirit. C’mon, they’re waiting.”

One of the Holy Sluts stepped out of a room into the hallway—Violet. I flushed at the sight of her. I always admired the picture of her that hangs on the Living Church’s wall. She was about my age, maybe a year older, her brunette hair pulled into two pigtails, and a gold choker glinting about her neck set with amethyst; for clothing she wore a naughty, Catholic schoolgirl outfit: very short, blue-and-purple plaid skirt; knee-high, white socks; and a plain, white blouse tied at the midriff. Her hazel eyes found mine, and I flushed as they widened—pink tongue running across her red lips—as she examined me.

“Good luck,” she said, a touch breathless.

My heart was thundering in my chest, and I just flushed more, trying to work up the courage to say something. A second Holy Slut, April, burst out of the same door—dressed in a similar naughty schoolgirl outfit, though her silver-rimmed glasses gave her a sexy nerd vibe—and entwined her arm about Violet’s possessively.

“C’mon!” she exclaimed. “We need to get going, Violet.”

“Right,” Violet murmured, letting herself get pulled along by the nerdy brunette. Her eyes remained fixed on mine until she was dragged into the elevator.

I hoped to see her again. She was so pretty; her pigtails made her seem so innocent despite the whorish outfit she wore. Her hazel eyes were strangely compelling, stirring a confusing mix of desire and longing inside me. It was Mom’s tugging on my arm that snapped me out of my contemplation of Violet’s perfect face: smooth cheeks, a button nose, and those red lips that seemed so kissable.

“Sorry,” I muttered; my cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Jayda led us to a door guarded by a pair of slutty cops. One slid a keycard into the door and opened it. The suite was luxurious, like one of the hotel rooms that rich people stay in, and filled with strangely shaped furniture. Well, They are Gods—what did I expect them to stay in?

They sat on a love seat, naked, and Their eyes devoured us as we walked in. He was more handsome in person, with a chiseled chin, muscular chest, and deep-blue eyes that you could dreamily stare in all day long. And She was absolutely stunning. My breath caught as I beheld Her heart-shaped face that was framed by deep-red hair, and Her dazzling green eyes; Her breasts were perfect, perky and freckled, topped with dusky nipples. I had never seen a woman more beautiful in my entire life. I knew I would do anything to touch Her.

“Cindy and Pearl Mayflower,” Jayda introduced.

“Sisters?” my God asked.

“No, mother and daughter,” Jayda answered.

My Goddess shifted, leaning forward, and purred, “Really? You must have been young when you had her.”

“I was, Your Worshipfulness,” Mom breathed.

“Please, you can refer to me as Mistress or Ma’am,” She said, with a dismissive wave. “And he’s Master or Sir. Better than that mouthful.”

“Yes, er, Mistress,” Mom said.

“So, Pearl, have you ever had sex with your daughter?” He asked.

“No, Master.”

“Have you thought about it?”

My mom shifted, glancing momentarily at me, then answered, “Last week, during the Worship Orgy, it crossed my mind.”

“Why didn’t you act on those feelings?” She asked, fixing my mom with Her emerald eyes.

“I felt ashamed for those desires.”

“You shouldn’t,” She said. “There’s nothing wrong with showing your affection for your daughter. My mother and I are very close.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“If you want to serve us, you and your daughter must make love to each other,” He told her. “Otherwise, you’re free to go.”

I glanced up at my mom; I didn’t want to leave. My eyes widened as I saw her as a woman for the first time: her face was almost identical to mine, only more mature and ripened, with beautiful green eyes, and perfectly framed by her tousled, light-brown hair. My gaze traveled down her body; her breasts were full, sagging only a little bit, but still gorgeous with pink, fat nipples, and her stomach was sleek and toned. She was shaved; her thick pussy lips nestled between her slim thighs.

“You are so gorgeous, Mom,” I whispered.

Mom stared back at me with lust, and asked, “You don’t hate me?”

I shook my head.

She groaned low and throaty—like a big cat, a cougar—and pounced at me. Her lips were hot on mine, her tongue probing, playing across my metal braces, while her breasts pillowed softly against my budding tits. Two nipples rubbed like hard pebbles across my skin as we kissed, our tongues hesitantly exploring each other’s mouth. My hands seemed to wrap around her back automatically, hugging her tight.

“Oh, my sweet baby,” she purred. “I have to taste you. Let mommy taste your sweetness.”

“Oh, yes, taste me!” I moaned. “I’d love that.”

She pushed me down into a plush chair, the velvet fabric rubbing against my ass as Mom spread my thighs. Her fingers were gentle as they ran through the soft down of my pubic hair, teasing my tight pussy. Then she buried her face into my snatch, licking vigorously. She seemed desperate to taste every fold and crevasse of my youthful cunt, driving me wild with naughty sensations.

Mom was eating my pussy. And I loved it!

“Oh, mommy!” I moaned, my eyes widening as pleasure electrified my body.

“That’s fucking hot, Mare,” He groaned, and my eyes fell on His hard cock rising triumphantly from His crotch. Pride filled me up; I made His dick hard and throbbing.

My Goddess’s hand reached out, stroking His cock. “Why don’t we get that sweet, young girl to suck on your cock, hun.”

I licked my lips; that sounded wonderful.

“Would you like that?” He asked me.

I nodded, “Oh, yes, Master!”

He beckoned with His hand, and I pushed mom’s face away. She looked disappointed as I stood up and knelt before my God. I was intimidated by His cock. Only once before had I sucked a dick, during last week’s worship orgy. It was on a boy my own age named Patrick while my History teacher, Miss Blythe, coached me. “Mind your teeth,” she had explained. “The head of a boy’s cock is very sensitive. You can gently graze it with your teeth, but don’t bite. They will not like that.”

I started by licking—Miss Blythe taught me that it was a great way to start a blowjob—His cock, beginning at His balls, and licking all the way up to His tip. Mom’s head slid between my thighs, and her tongue worked wonderfully at my pussy, encouraging me to pleasure my God. I traced the mushroom-shaped head of His dick, felt Him shudder in pleasure, then sucked the head into my mouth.

A soft hand gripped my hair, my Goddess’s hand, pushing me down His cock. “Let’s see if you can deep-throat him,” She purred. More and more of His dick filled my mouth, starting to brush the back of my throat and I tensed. “Relax, Cindy,” She commanded. “Let his cock slip down your throat. He’ll love it.”

Her words soothed me, like they were reaching into my soul and brushing away my fear. I swallowed His cock, His hard shaft filling my throat, my lips descending to kiss His tangle of wiry, brown pubic hair. I couldn’t breath with His cock buried in my throat, but I trusted my Gods. He moaned and Her grip loosened, and I slid up His cock, taking a quick breath through my nose, before deep-throating Him a second time.

“You wouldn’t know that it was her first time,” He groaned. “She’s got a wonderful mouth.”

“Women always want to please me,” my Goddess purred. I slid back down the cock, deep-throating Him on my own as I heard my Gods kiss.

Over and over, I slid His cock into my mouth’s depths, rising back up, then I’d plunge His shaft back down my throat. Mom kept working my pussy, her tongue and fingers stroking the tempest inside me. Then the tempest broke and I came. I moaned loudly around His cock buried deep in my throat; Mom kept licking me and I kept climaxing, my passionate cries muffled by His cock.

“Holy shit!” He muttered. “Here it comes, slut!”

“Drink his cum!” She purred. “Don’t waste a single drop of my husband’s cum, you filthy whore!”

His cock burst salty into my mouth, three large blasts, forcing me to swallow like mad to keep from losing a single, delicious drop. His thick cream coated my mouth and tongue, and I savored its thick texture. I gasped for breath as He pulled His cock out of my mouth. I saw a bead of white cum oozing out of the small slit at the tip of His cock, and eagerly licked the tasty morsel into my mouth.

“Your daughter is quite the slut, Pearl,” He congratulated.

“Thank you, Master,” Mom answered, sliding out from beneath me. Her face was sticky with my passion; I couldn’t help but kiss her and taste my spicy flavor.

“Pearl, why don’t you put that tongue to work on my pussy,” purred the Goddess.

“I’d be honored, Mistress.”

My God grabbed my face, turning me to look at Him. “I bet your cunt is tight.”

“Yes, Master,” I flushed. “I’ve only used slim dildos. I’m practically a virgin.”

He grinned, “Come sit on my cock.”

I crawled up into His lap and tried to kiss Him; He stopped me, admonishing, “A good slut doesn’t kiss her Master with a mouth tasting of cum.”

“Sorry, Master,” I flushed.

My Goddess moaned as Mom started tonguing Her, and leaned in and gave me a kiss, full of passion. “It’s okay to kiss me with a mouthful of cum.” She giggled. “I love to taste my husband’s seed on another woman’s lips.”

“Or her cunt,” He smiled, and grabbed my hips and pulled me down on His cock.

“Umm, that’s the best,” She moaned.

His cock invaded me, sliding into my well greased and very tight hole. He was bigger than the dildo Doctor Willow had given me, and stretched my little pussy wonderfully. I gasped and bucked on His cock, eager to feel more pleasure. I rose up until only the tip remained in me, savoring the sweet way He rubbed inside me, then I dropped down, gasping as He filled me up once more.

“Fuck, she’s almost as tight as a virgin,” He groaned. “I love fucking teenage cunt!”

I beamed, working my hips on His cock. I was making my God happy, and His cock stirred up the passion inside me. “Fuck me, my Lord!” I groaned.

“My Lord,” He mused, hands guiding my ass as I pumped away on His cock. “I like the sound of that. I think the maids should call us my Lord and Lady.”

“Sure!” She moaned, her voice shrill with passion. “Oh, fuck, the mom’s got a tongue on her. These two are definitely keepers, hun.”

“If that’s what they want,” He stated.

“It is, my Lord!” I cried out. “I want to be yours!”

“Then you shall be, Cindy,” He answered as I bounced up and down on His wonderful cock.

His words triggered my orgasm; a powerful hurricane raged inside me, dashing waves of rapture against the coherency of my mind and washing away all reason and thought. Nothing remained but the pleasure of His cock. I clung to Him, my little nipples rubbing against His chest, His dick filling my tight pussy up. I ground my hard clit into His groin, adding more and more waves to the pleasure buffeting my body.

His cum pulsed into me, four large, heavy blasts that flooded my pussy—a God’s sacred cum. I was the vessel of His pleasure, worthy enough to used by Him, or by Her, to satisfy any desire They might have. I was in heaven, nirvana, or whatever you wanted to call it. I was Their servant.

Giddily, I let Him lead me into the bedroom where an older woman waited; still beautiful even though she was older than my mother. She was ripened to the peek of feminine beauty—Sandra Glassner, His mother. Her legs were spread, milky cum leaked out of the vessel that had brought one of my Gods into this world. I reverently knelt, my entire body trembling as I beheld this beautiful sight. I lowered my face, took a deep breath, and drank the nectar of her pussy.

“Zimmah,” He whispered, and energy sprang out of His mother into the two of us, wrapping about my very soul, then it snapped between us, a chain binding me to my God for all eternity.

Eyes widening, I moaned in awe, “I’m yours forever, my Lord.”

“Forever,” He smiled at me as my mom knelt and prepared to be bound. I watched eagerly as my mom’s tongue licked out, gathering a thick glob of His cum from Sandra’s pussy. He whispered the word. Mom was bound.

I threw my arms around my mom and kissed her soundly. Together we would serve our Gods forever. And that would give me plenty of time to get to know that cute girl with the pig-tails. Violet. What a beautiful name.

---

Mind controlled Janice and Heather are taken to a sex club by Wayne and Peter and are abused.

My name is Heather. I am 31 years old, slim, and have dark hair. I work at Park Lane College, where I have worked for my current manager, Peter, for three years. Peter is a senior manager at the college, and I think he is very good-looking and has a powerful body. He works out at the gym several days a week. Peter and I have become very good friends and will often go out for a coffee and sandwich together at lunchtime.

One morning, I found Peter in deep conversation with Wayne, another of the college’s senior managers. I was not certain about Wayne; he had a reputation as a womaniser. He had once asked me out on a date, but I refused his offer.

Peter turned to me and smiled, “How about lunch at a club Wayne and I know?” I would have preferred not to go but agreed to. Wayne was joined by his assistant Janice and we drove to the club in Peter’s car.

I knew a little bit about Janice, including that she had recently changed her dress from proper office attire to some very revealing outfits that were the talk of the office. Today, Janice was in a white blouse and very short skirt.

“This will be a surprise for you,” said Peter when we pulled into the club’s car park after a 10-minute drive. It was a single-story building with very few windows and no signage, and the car park was very busy.

We walked through the door into a room with a very faint aroma that I could not identify. After about two breaths, I started to feel strange and lightheaded.

I instantly identified that we were in a sex club; there was a bar at one side of the room, a section selling food and at the far end of the room, two stages. On one of the stages, a woman was stripping, and on the other stage, a woman was tied to what looked like a large cross. She was tied spread-eagled, and a man was having sex with her. I guessed there were about 200 people in the room watching the stage shows or eating and drinking. There were three or four familiar faces, college staff.

Normally, I would have walked straight out of the building. Sex clubs were not my scene, but the aroma seemed to be drawing me in. I felt relaxed and happy. Both Peter and Wayne were watching me closely. Janice and I followed the two men through the large room through a doorway which led into a smaller more intimate room.

There was a large couch in the middle of the room, several armchairs facing the couch, and a large bed in the corner of the room. The strangest sight was two German Shepherd Dogs sleeping in a dog bed pushed up against one wall.

Peter grabbed Janice by the arms. Janice smiled broadly at me without attempting to escape from Peter’s grip.

Peter pulled Janice close and kissed her on the mouth. I thought Janice would resist him but instead she responded to his kiss.

My instinct was to turn away, but I stayed where I was and watched. Thinking about leaving, I found it exciting to be destined to watch the two of them kiss. My head still felt very light, and for some reason, I felt turned on by the scene before me.

Janice’s body pressed desperately against Peter, and there was excitement in the room. I was nervous and excited, but their excitement seemed to want to blow up the room.

It was fantastic.

Peter finally managed to restrain Janice, push her away from him, and turned to me.

“I want you to sit on this chair and not move until I tell you to.” I looked in the direction shown. There was a chair with armrests against the wall opposite a large couch. I walked towards it and sat down, wondering what was happening and why I was staying in the room.

The thick cushion on my back forced me to sit at the front of the chair, but it was quite soft and comfortable. I rested my arms on the armrests and placed my feet on the chair’s legs.

Peter turned to Janice and led her to stand by the couch. He kissed her passionately, looking at me the whole time. Wayne moved to stand behind Janice, kissed her neck, and unzipped her skirt so that it fell to the floor.

I was getting hot.

Peter groped her whole upper body, squeezed her breasts, and rubbed his pelvis against hers.

Wayne came and sat in a chair next to mine. Watching them was very arousing, and I felt a blush rising on my cheeks.

Janice moaned loudly, and I felt myself clutching the armrests convulsively.

The urge to close my knees grew stronger as I felt myself getting wet just watching them. A scene like this would normally turn me off. Wayne placed his hand on my knee and, without looking at me, said, “You can not leave. We have taken your willpower, and for the moment, you are under our control.” Rubbish. I thought I could leave when I wanted, but I just didn’t want to leave. I did not remove Wayne’s hand.

Peter walked Janice behind the couch and turned Janice towards me he put his arms around her unbuttoned and removed her blouse and then her bra. I stared at her naked breasts. What was going on? I thought this was not normal, but I could not take my eyes off the view before me. Peter removed Janice’s knickers, throwing them onto the couch, and bent Janice over the couch.

Her breasts hung down. I was aware that Wayne’s hand had moved further up my leg, pushing my skirt up slightly. I tried to remove his hand but found myself pushing his hand further up my skirt so it was high up on my thigh.

Now, both Janice and Peter were looking at me; while Peter dropped his pants behind her she moaned so loud that I winced in my chair. Peter looked at me intently as he slowly penetrated Janice and began to move.

Instead of looking at his cock, which was opening Janice’s certainly already hot and wet vagina, he looked at my face as if he was pushing his cock between my lips.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he rammed his cock deep inside her, and I resisted the urge to press my hand to my throat, which felt like I was choking. I was getting hot now. I wanted to stand there and be fucked by him. I wanted to get closer and watch his cock disappear into her pussy.

My nipples felt hard under my T-shirt, and my pussy pulsed with pleasure. When I saw the faint smile on Peter’s face as he rammed his cock full force into Janice, I knew that was exactly what he had intended by pushing the chair as far as it would go.

My pussy was throbbing wet, and I wondered how I had changed so quickly from not wanting to be in the room to wanting to join in. Wayne’s hand started to push my skirt up above my waist. I knew both he, Janice, and Peter could see my white knickers. I was not bothered; this was just not like me. “Janice is not normally like this,” whispered Wayne, “we are controlling her mind and body so that she does whatever we want.” I did not look away from the performance in front of me while my mind tried to process what Wayne had just said but I gave up and enjoyed the performance.

I didn’t dare look down and take my eyes off the copulating couple. It was such a turn-on. Janice’s face was red with lust, and the only thing coming out of her open lips was a long, lustful gasp. My hands tightened in the armrests, and I almost cried out in surprise when the dogs I had forgotten about came running across and sat beside me. The sound of Janice’s body slamming against the couch overrode my thoughts.

The moaning increased, and Peter pumped into her with relish, sometimes looking at me, sometimes at the dogs, who were trembling with excitement.

Janice climaxed, shaking violently, and my pussy contracted with hers as I saw the ecstasy on her face. Peter’s big paws closed like claws around Janice’s hips, and her whole body reminded me of a doll that he pushed onto his cock over and over again. I could almost feel the hard grip around my own waist and wished he would grab me even harder.

The dog came towards me and stuck his big snout right between my legs. I wanted to push him away, but Peter’s panting stopped me.

He looked at me and at the animal sniffing my wet pussy. I wanted to push the dog away but did not have the strength or willpower. I felt revolted at what I was allowing the dog to do. I wanted to push the horny dog away because every movement of its big snout was like a direct touch to my pussy, which was screaming with lust for a cock. The dog wagged its tail and moved wildly, and then the enormous wet tongue began to lick my crotch obsessively.

Janice cried out as Peter came inside her. I saw Peter cumming and longed for the feeling of his hard cock in my wet pussy.

I was sure that Janice’s feet were no longer touching the floor, and I couldn’t take my eyes off Peter’s when the moment came that his hot sperm shot out of him.

I imagined I could smell Peter’s cum at that distance and saw his ecstatic face.

The dog continued to lick my now wet crotch, and his backside moved as if he were the one fucking someone and not Peter. I was only seconds away from an orgasm. I wanted to go home and sink my fingers deep into my more than ready pussy. My breathing was intermittent, and the damn mutt just wouldn’t stop licking me.

Peter enjoyed his orgasm and looked at me continuously. I held my breath as he slid out of Janice and brushed his hair back from his forehead.

Janice smiled broadly at me as she came back on her feet.

Peter pushed Janice down onto her knees and bent her over. The second dog started sniffing and licking around Janice’s pussy, and then it was up on her pushing its cock into her pussy. I felt revolted at what Janice was letting the dog do, it was so degrading, it was clear she was enjoying herself.

I felt Wayne’s hands pulling my knickers down, exposing my wet cunt fully to the drooling dog, but I could not take my eyes off Janice. A wide grin split her face as the dog started to pump into her, she was gasping, and I realised climaxing as the dog fucked her. The dog seemed to take its time and spent about five minutes fucking her.

Between my legs, the dog’s tongue lashed out once again, digging its way into my wet cunt. I could feel the wet tip of his tongue deeply embedded, devouring the sticky discharge that oozed in an unstoppable flow from my fleshy vaginal embrace. I wanted to stop it but my hands felt incapable of movement. It felt as if the voracious beast was only a few inches short of slipping his eager tongue into the opening of my womb. I could not stop my body as my thighs spread even wider, and I gently pressed my hips forward onto his snout. The dog seemed to sense my wanton need, responding with a forceful push of his own. A glistening sheen of perspiration broke out on my forehead, betraying the effort of our obscene interaction. The collaborative exercise paid off, and another two inches of furry canine snout were press-fit into my greedy little cunt, and its tongue licked deeper into me.

I realised what I was doing and knew it was so wrong and that I should stop right now, but I could not. I was enjoying it so much that I did not have the willpower to stop it. Wayne had moved behind my chair. He reached over and pulled my t-shirt up and over my head, exposing my bra.

Janice, still on all fours, crawled in front of me, gently pushed the dog to one side, and put her head between my legs.

I looked down at Janice’s head, lesbian sex was something that in all my life I had never considered, but now I was desperate for her tongue to lick at my pussy and bring me the climax I needed. She did it; her tongue licked very gently at my outer lips and slowly moved deeper into me; she found my clit, and her tongue traced a circle around it.

Behind me, Wayne had unclipped my bra and removed it; his hands were cupping and playing with my tits.

Janice’s tongue was incessant in its stroking of my clit. I was building to a major climax, my breathing was coming in gasps, and then she hit the spot; I shouted out loud as my climax hit, and my juices flowed into Janice’s mouth.

Janice kissed the inside of my thighs and worked up my body until she was sucking on my left nipple. Wayne lowered his head and sucked on my right nipple for a few seconds. They were both attached to my tits.

Wayne took my hands and raised me to my feet. I did not/could not resist as he bent me over the couch. Wayne quickly undressed and pressed his hard cock between my legs. I was so wet that his cock slid into my cunt easily. I spread my legs wider and bent even further over the couch giving him maximum access.

I glanced at Janice. She had knelt in front of Peter, taken his cock into her mouth, and was sucking on it, and moving her mouth up and down, masturbating his cock with her mouth.

Wayne was pumping hard into me, and I pushed back on him. Then he came delivering cum deep inside my cunt. As his cock softened and dropped out of me, I could see Peter was shooting his cum into Janice’s mouth, and she swallowed it all.

Peter turned to me, “Why don’t you let Rosco mount you?” and pointed at the dog that had been licking me. The very idea of bestiality with a dog made me feel sick. “No,” I said, “let us leave this place now!”

“Take your skirt off and kneel and let Rosco mount you,” said Peter. “No!” I exclaimed then realised my hands were unzipping my skirt I tried to stop but my hands seemed to have a will of their own. I was very quickly naked. My knees bent so that I was knelt down. I tried desperately to stop myself.

“It is no good struggling. Your body will do whatever we want it to,” said Wayne, just like Janice’s body. Her mind and body are ours to control, and from today, so is your mind and body.” I was horror-stricken at his words. “No!” I screamed Peter, and Wayne just smiled at me. Janice had quietly sat down.

Now I was knelt on all fours with my bottom raised.

My eyes flew open as Rosco started licking at the juices flowing from my throbbing hole. I continued trying to stop what was happening. My body was enjoying his assault, and I needed to stop it, but it was no good. My mind was losing the battle with my body. So close to orgasm, my body needed to fulfil the rising need. But no. Not like this. This was just too depraved. Peter was now videoing me with his phone.

The next moment, I felt a thump on my back as Rosco’s front paws pushed me forward. His back legs were now between my legs. I could feel him pushing forward. Then I felt a prodding at my pussy and realised what he was trying to do. I tried to get up, but my body wanted Rosco. He snarled, and the next thing I knew, his erect cock was inside my throbbing hole. “Oh God.” I moaned, “Rosco. No” I said, again trying to stand up and feeling sick at what was happening.

Rosco growled again and pushed at my neck with his snout, nipping at me to stay still. I was trapped, and not only by Rosco, his cock was brushing hard against my clit. His cock just seemed to keep growing as he pumped rapidly in and out of me, making his unerring journey deeper into my body. My orgasm again started to rise. I thanked god when I felt him come, thinking that now he would get off me. I later found out that his first ejaculation was only pre-come, but there was so much of it that it spilled out and ran down my legs.

Then I felt something bigger than his erection pushing at my hole. I could feel the huge size of it and was terrified it would tear me apart. Suddenly with a seeming plop, whatever it was pushed past my swollen pussy lips and was inside me, and still, Rosco got bigger and bigger. That knot was now crushing my clit, driving me finally over the edge into a huge orgasm. He pumped faster and faster, and my senses went further and further away until I was completely lost in a sequence of rapid-fire orgasmic spasms.

Finally, Rosco fired his seed into me; it poured from his swollen balls like water from a tap. I could feel it hitting my insides, bang, bang bang till finally, he slowed down and came to a stop, his cum running freely from my pussy and down my legs. His cock was still inside me, and each time he tried to pull out of my sopping hole, he sent me off on yet another orgasm. Finally, he flopped out of me and strolled off to his corner. I fell to the floor crying at my rape I was so ashamed.

“Stand,” ordered Wayne. My body stood to his command. I tried to swear at him but found my mouth would not open.

Wayne stood in front of me and started to fondle my body; Peter stood behind me, also fondling me. I watched as Wayne’s cock swelled. He turned me round, and Peter stepped away. “Bend over the couch and spread your ass cheeks, ready for your anus to receive me,” Again, my mind was horrified. My anus was a virgin, and the idea of anal sex was so dirty I would never allow it.

I fought my body, but it was no good. I bent over the couch, and my hands spread my butt cheeks.

Wayne moved behind me and rubbed his erection against my buttocks and then he knelt behind me and I felt a sharp pain as his finger slipped inside my bottom.

“No!” I gasped.

“Yes,” he replied, “you may not want it, but your body will let me!”

“No, Wayne, I don’t like that!” I shout, panic rising in my voice.

With that, he forced in a second finger, and I was instantly met with an overwhelming burning sensation as he stretched out my anus. He was far from gentle, quickly working his fingers in and out of me. I feel every movement, his knuckles popping in and out of my poor hole, each thrust adding to my discomfort.

As time passed, his fingers move more freely, and the pain begins to subside. Just as I start to find some relief, I’m startled by the sensation of him withdrawing his fingers, only to let out a loud squeal as I feel a third finger being pushed into me, all three entering me together.

“Oh fuck! Stop! You’re going to tear me,” I shout.

My hole felt like it was on fire as I felt every micro movement inside it as his fingers were forced in as far as they could go. I tried to move away from him, but my body would not move. I was also aware that my body was becoming aroused by his assault. My pussy was getting wetter.

The pain was almost unbearable as he continued to manipulate his fingers inside me. With each movement, the pain only intensified, and I became acutely aware of the lack of lubrication. The friction only added to my agony. The pain was making my body aroused.

“Are you ready for the real thing yet?” He asked.

The thought of his penis inside me filled me with dread, and I couldn’t shake the helpless feeling of being utterly at his mercy.

He didn’t wait for my response. I feel almost instant relief as he withdrew his fingers from me, he pushed his already hard penis against my bottom. His left hand glided over my breast smoothly, but his right hand pawed at my breast, his touch aggressive as he tugged on my nipples. He removed his hands from my breasts, his left hand shifting around the front of my hip, firmly pulling me towards him. Meanwhile, his right hand disappears from view, adding an element of suspense. I feel the firm pressure of his penis poking between my cheeks, clearly seeking out my anus.

Once located, he wasted no time, applying pressure immediately. The sensation is so alien and uncomfortable. Every fibre of skin seemingly stretched to its limit, burning as my hole reluctantly opened for him. His thick, bulbous tip gradually pushes through the outer sphincter, prompting a sharp gasp of pain to escape my lips.

I felt completely helpless, overwhelmed by the agony. I plead silently for the pain to stop, praying that once his tip is inside, the worst will be over. His relentless pressure intensifies, each incremental movement pushing me to the brink of collapse.

Then I feel some of the tip slip inside, quickly followed by the rest. I immediately feel some relief, but not much, but right now, I’m thankful for whatever I can get.

“Oh,!” He grunted, his voice strained with pleasure. “Your arse is so tight, much tighter than Janice’s”

He forcefully drove his penis deeper into me, his tip rearranging my insides with each thrust, stretching me uncomfortably and causing sharp waves of pain to radiate through my body.

“Stop!” I cried out, my voice barely above a whisper as the pain took my breath away.

But he didn’t stop. In fact, he continued to push deeper into me until he bottomed out, burying as much of his cock inside me as he could. He paused for a second, and I struggled to catch my breath. I could feel my pulse pounding in my anus.

He continued his long, slow thrusts in and out of me, his right hand returning to my breast, I could hear him grunting with pleasure, reviling in the use of my body for his own gratification.

With a relentless grip on my breast and a rough tug on my nipple, Wayne accelerated his thrusts, each one driving deeper into my tight passage. The force of his movements continued to send waves of discomfort rippling through me as I became acutely aware of the wetness trickling down my leg.

The pain in my anus started to ease as my muscles adjusted to the size of his cock and my body started to enjoy the feeling of my anal muscles stretching and contracting to each of his thrusts. I had the thought that I could understand why some men enjoyed having sex together.

Wayne gave a great gasp, and his warm semen filled my anus. Wayne stepped away from me, breathing heavily.

Peter moved behind me “Face me and kneel,” he instructed, and my body responded to his command. I knew what he was going to make me do to him, and because of his control of my body, I could not stop it. Like most women, I enjoy giving a man oral sex, but this was going to be oral rape, and I did not want it.

“Suck it slut!” He ordered.

I flinched at his words but did as I was told

He wasn’t fully hard yet, but he was already dripping precum. I stared at his thick cock, and he pressed the head of his cock against my lips.

My tongue wrapped around the head of his cock before letting it slide between my lips. I started slowly bobbing back and forth on his shaft, taking more of him into my mouth each time. Peter grunted and I could feel his cock getting harder in my mouth. I reached up with one hand to grab the base of his cock and stroke him while I sucked his head before taking him into my mouth again. I tried to pull back, but my body would not allow it.

“You’re such a good cocksucking slut,” Peter moaned, “It’s like you were made to suck cock. He stopped my sucking and started to pound his cock hard into my mouth I heard him grunt I felt his cock throbbing.

“swallow it all cunt!” He moaned as he filled my mouth with his hot cum.

The first spurt hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed it right away. Peter kept pumping and my body did its best to swallow it all. A few drops leaked from the side of my mouth.

Peter pulled his cock out of my mouth then shoved his balls in my face.

“Suck my balls slut!” He barked.

I did as I was told taking one of his balls into my mouth. His cock was starting to soften and I felt his wet shaft slowly droop against my forehead. Peter held me in place, and I kept sucking and licking his balls as he looked down at me with that grin.

“That feels so good slut”, Richard said, “Don’t stop. I want you to get me hard again.”

He pushed my head lower a bit and my tongue slipped along his taint before I took his balls in my mouth again. He shuddered as it happened, and I felt his cock begin to stir. Peter pulled me away from his balls and forced his cock back into my mouth. I felt him growing in my mouth. Suddenly he pulled out of my mouth and forced me to my feet.

He turned me around, “bend over the couch,“ he ordered and my body complied. He slapped my buttocks several times and then he pressed his thumb against my asshole and slowly slipped it into me. I grunted and wanted to pull away but I couldn’t move.

Peter shifted behind me, and I felt the tip of his cock press against my anus. I felt his cock press past my tight hole. I grunted and whimpered again as Peter moaned. He held himself there just the tip of his cock inside my anus.

After a few breaths, he pulled out, rubbed the head of his cock against my wet cunt then pushed the head of his cock back into my asshole. He repeated this a few times, and then when he was satisfied, I was lubed up enough he pushed a bit deeper. It still hurt, and I yelped.

“Please, no,” I whimpered, “You’re too thick. I can’t take it.”

Peter rubbed my back again and said, “Take it slut, and trust me, you’re gonna love it, and now silence you can not talk.” I tried to plead with him again, but his command worked; I could not speak or make a sound.

Peter forced more of his cock into my ass and forced my legs apart again, then suddenly shoved the rest of his cock into me.

Peter started slowly, sliding in and out of my ass and grunting with each thrust body is enjoying the pounding. The feel of my anal muscles contracting and expanding was arousing, and my body climaxed.

“I knew you’d love this slut!” He grunts, “I fucking love your ass!”

He continues pumping away faster and faster the slapping sound of our bodies echoes in the room. He continues for a while with a steady tempo, his cock slides in and out of my ass. Suddenly, his pace increases, and his grunting is louder.

“Here it cums slut!” Richard bellows as I feel his cock swell and he flooded my anus with cum.

Peter slowly pulled out of my anus with an obscene pop, and I felt like I was gaping open. He wipes his cock against my buttocks.

My mind was traumatised by what had happened; I wanted to cry.

“Both of you lay down on the bed,” said Wayne. Our bodies complied. This was no ordinary bed; it was massive, the widest bed I had ever seen, with a wrought iron headboard and footboard. Janice followed his command and, despite trying to resist my body, complied.

Peter pulled my hands above my head, spread them wide, and handcuffed them to the headboard. Next, Peter spread my legs wide and cuffed them to the footboard. I was tied up spread-eagled on the bed. Wayne had tied Janice to the bed in the same manner, so we were laid next to each other helpless.

Control of my body returned as Peter and Wayne left the room. I tried pulling on my bonds, but I was tightly fastened. The room’s ceiling was covered in mirror tiles except for a large TV set in the middle of the ceiling. Beside me, Janice gasped and, in a panicked tone, exclaimed, “What is happening? Where are we.” I did not need to turn my head to look at her as I could see our reflection in the mirror ceiling, both of us tied to the bed helpless.

“What do you remember about today” I asked her.

She replied, “I was in an office with Wayne, he kissed me and then I am here tied to this bed.”

I explained what had happened, how we were controlled, that Peter and Wayne controlled our bodies and minds, and they had said that when this was all over, we would forget about it. As I talked, the TV screen sprang to life, and right in front of our eyes, there was a video of Janice enjoying sex with the dog. The screen then changed and showed us Janice giving Peter oral sex, Peter having anal sex with me, and Janice licking me between the legs.

“How long has this been going on,” asked a now tearful Janice. The TV screen changed again. It showed a different room and Janice having sex with a dog; it flipped through eight different scenes where she was having sex with dogs and enjoying it. Then there were scenes of her having sex with groups of men and lesbian sex and the final scene was Janice knelt under a horse with its cock in her mouth and her sucking on it.

For a few minutes, Janice was quiet, and then she said, “I do not remember anything, but that is me in those videos; what have they done to me? I am having an affair with Wayne, I know that. Looking at those videos, he is setting me up. Recently, he has become more dominant. Two memories have come back to me.

I remember senior managers meeting where I was taking minutes, Wayne was sitting next to me; before the meeting started he had asked me to take my tights off so I was bare-legged, under the table, and he had his hand on my knee, and he slowly moved it up my thigh and up my skirt, he rubbed me and I was wet. As the meeting was very detailed I was taking notes while he rubbed me. Wayne then passed me a note that said let’s be adventurous, take your knickers off without anyone noticing. I did it very slowly, shuffling in my seat so that nobody noticed. Wayne ran his hand up my leg and started to touch me, stroking my bare pussy, and he made me climax. It was hard to keep silent. Then he leaned over to look at my notes, but it was a pretence as his hand ran down my back and unzipped my skirt. Slowly, he pulled it down, and it dropped around my ankles so that under the table, I was naked. I was worried about how I was going to dress without anyone noticing, I trusted Wayne. At the end of the meeting, people stood up to leave, and Wayne left carrying my skirt. I pulled my knickers on and had to walk past several people in just my knickers; I was angry with him, but I loved him and forgave him; I had forgotten about that,” she said.

Janice continued I have remembered something else, Wayne has his own consulting business and one day, he asked if I would help him. He had a meeting in the bar of a hotel with a man who was considering giving him some business and Wayne felt having a sexy woman with him might help distract the man and get him the deal. Wayne bought me a dress that was very short and very low cut with a push-up bra, so I had lots of cleavage showing. The man was obstinate and, near the end of the meeting, said to Wayne that he would only give him the business if I had sex with him immediately in one of the hotel’s bedrooms. I refused Wayne tried to persuade me to have sex with the man. While we were arguing the man went and bought Wayne and me drinks. I remember Wayne passing me the drink and saying drink this it will help you, I drank it, and the next thing I knew was waking up naked in a bed the man was on top of me his erection inside me and I was kissing him with my arms and legs wrapped around him and I was very aroused. Before I could stop him, I felt the man come, his wet sperm filling inside me, which brought me back to reality. He was not using a condom. Could he be getting me pregnant? It turned out I had spent three hours in the bedroom with the man, and we had unprotected sex four times. I leapt out of the bed, angry with the man and later angry with Wayne, but he protested he did not know my drink was drugged, I had volunteered to bed the man. I gave Wayne the benefit of the doubt but I was still angry with him for suggesting I had sex with a stranger.”

We lay there tied to the bed, looking at ourselves naked in the mirror. The TV started playing more scenes of Janice having sex with men, boys, women, girls, dogs and horses and then went off. “Some of those scenes were in my own bedroom,“ Janice said I do not remember any of them. We lay silently, wondering what our fate would be.

After what seemed to be an age, the door opened, and a large, coloured man entered the room. We both started begging him to set us free, but he stayed silent, and we both realised what his intention was when he started to undress. Naked, he was an imposing sight; he looked like a bodybuilder and had a big cock to match. Janice turned her head and looked at me, crying again. The man stood at the foot of the bed smiling and looking at us bound and helpless.

He moved to Janice’s side of the bed and stood grinning at her. His hand cupped his crotch, and he rubbed it in a slow circular fashion. “Guess what I got for you, white girl.” Janice gasped, her mouth and eyes wide. He got onto the bed, crawling over between her legs and squatting there. “Leave me alone please,” Janice begged.” He chuckled I could see Janice was staring in horror at his thick organ as he held it there in his fist.

“Ready for it, cunt? Ready for a big nigger cock?”

“Please don’t,” she sobbed.

I stared at what was happening, unable to take my eyes off the scene. Janice was trying to struggle against her handcuffs desperate to get free.

He slid his free hand onto her belly. She gasped again,

Staring at it. He rubbed her belly, sighing in pleasure. His other hand joined the first and he caressed her flesh, sliding up and down her hips, her sides, then up along her ribs before coming around and sliding over her breasts. He rubbed his cock against her breasts.

She whimpered and pulled at her bonds again. His hands rubbed very softly against her rounded orbs. He stroked the sides, then the centre, avoiding the nipples. Then he bent over and slid his tongue onto her belly, just above her thatch of pussy hair. He slid it upwards along her belly, very slowly, winding it from side to side.

His tongue slid up between her breasts and then curved around one, circling it before passing across and circling the other. Finally, his hands stroking her tits from the sides, he slid his tongue directly up onto her left breast and onto her nipple. He shifted to the other tit, sucking on that nipple. His hands squeezed both her breasts making Janice cry with the pain.

I felt so helpless as he eased downwards, sliding his tongue down her belly again as he shifted himself back towards the foot of the bed. He stared at her cunt from inches away, his hands caressing her thigh. In the mirror I saw him insert two fingers into Janice’s cunt which brought even more frenzied struggles from her. The giant black man pulled her cunt open and stared into her. He rubbed his fingers along her slit, then bent and slid his tongue into her. He laughed, then slid upwards along her body, his heavy muscular frame crushing her as it rasped upwards. Then he was over her, on her. His eyes stared savagely down into hers. His heavy frame crushed her into the bed. He seized her hair and forced her head up and back, then mashed his lips against hers. I watched him as he reached down to his cock and pressed the head against her cunt, then began pushing downwards. As his cock entered her Janice gave a loud scream then she opened her mouth, a gurgling sigh of breath escaping as her eyes widened.

“No! No I… Oh! OOhhh! UUnnngghh! Aaarchhh!”

Her head pulled desperately, her body shaking and tearing at the bonds holding her. Her muscles strained and pulled to no effect as his cock drove into her.

Janice’s eyes bulged wide, and the air puffed out of her in short, gasping groans.

She groaned again the sound choked back by another cry of pain as he drew back slightly then thrust inward. His weight was squashing her. He crushed his lips to hers again Then began to pump, grunting at the effort or forcing his thick organ in and out of her.

“Like that, little bitch? Dirty little white whore!

He tore her head back and she cried out in pain as he pulled her hair.

“Slut! Dirty little slut!” he sneered, mashing his lips down over hers again as he humped into her with greater strength. His ass rose higher and higher with each stroke, as he used more and more of his cock to stab her.

“Oh Yeah! Take it! Take it, bitch! Bitch! Whore!”

“Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!” she grunted, gasping for breath as his heavy body pounded down into her.

Then he stiffened and came, “No!” cried out Janice. “That’s you well fucked,” he laughed, “I will be back for more.”

As the man rolled off Janice, the door to the room opened, and not one man entered, but I counted twelve of them. Three I recognised from college.

One of the men stood at the bottom of the bed and started to undress, I knew it was my turn to be raped.

He was smaller than the man that had raped Janice but still was well muscled. I cringed as he knelt over me, his hand moved quickly, and he slapped my face twice and then punched my left breast, causing me to cry in pain. I started begging him to leave me alone but it was no good his mouth closed on my left nipple biting and two fingers were pressed deep into my cunt, I cried again as I felt his hand form a fist and he pushed hard my cunt lips spread as his whole fist entered me, it felt like he was ripping my insides and then inside me he his hand opened causing more pain. I was crying as he withdrew his hand, and the weight of his body squashed me. I tried to move away from his cock, but it was no good; he pressed it hard against me, and my cunt felt his erection enter it. He was pounding hard into me, ignoring my cries. Thankfully, he came quickly, but it was still a sickening moment. I felt defeated, abused and humiliated.

As he climbed off me, I glanced at Janice. Her eyes were staring at me as another man was on top of her raping her, his buttocks moving up and down. A blow to my stomach, and a second man was on top of me, his thighs pushing his cock into me, and after what seemed to be an eternity, he flooded my cunt with his seed.

My body took control. It became aroused. It wanted these men. We were both unfastened from the handcuffs, but this was worse than rape. Our bodies joined in the sex. My mouth went to the nearest cock, sucking it. I tried to command my body to pull away, but it would not. My sucking mouth brought the man to climax, and he filled my eager mouth with cum. Janice was on her knees her body enjoying anal sex. My next man bent me over and my body was desperate for his cock in my anus. As soon as that man had finished inside me, my body desperately needed another cock in it. My mind was reeling from the raping, and from the knowledge, my body was enjoying it. Janice had sex with two men at the same time, sucking on one man’s cock while another pumped his seed into her cunt.

The attack went on for several hours; my body loved it, but my mind didn’t. I lost count of how many times I climaxed. Twice they made me and Janice have lesbian sex together kissing each other’s mouths, breasts and cunts.

Eventually, the men stopped. I had lost count of how many times each of my three holes was raped. The men made me bend over a large brown storage box and they tied my hands and feet so that I was knelt on all fours across the box. Janice received the same treatment tied over a box next to me. The men left the room. For several minutes, we were both silent, taking in the enormity of what had just happened to us.

“What now,” whispered Janice it is obvious that they have not finished with us. I remained silent asking myself the same question. We knelt there for what seemed an age, it was so long I had to pee while in that position but Janice was worse, “I am sorry,” said Janice as a putrid smell filled the air, she had shit herself and I knew that I was not far from doing the same.

We found out what was next the door opened and seven dogs ran into the room, “Oh no,” cried Janice not dogs. I felt sick if the dogs wanted to mount us we could not stop them. There was a Rottweiler, four German Shepherd Dogs and two dogs that I did not know the breed of but they were big.

Then I felt a dog Jump on me from behind, and I yelled, “No!”

It all happened so fast, suddenly, I started struggling to get loose from my bonds the dog got behind me and wrapped his paws around my waist, as he managed to get a tight grip around my waist with his paws my jaw dropped open and my eyes opened wide, as I froze for a second in utter shock, it dawned on me, what he was trying to do. The dog adjusted himself and pulled me tightly against him, and mounted me; he started humping my ass. As I struggled to get loose, I felt the hard tip of his penis poking at me. I yelled out, “OH NO!”

I heard Janice shouting one of the German Shepherds was mounting her.

I started struggling like crazy to get loose and crying and yelling, “NO NO NO, YOU DON’T WANT TO DO THIS !” As I struggled, to get loose, I could feel the dogs hard penis poking crazy fast between my legs.

I panicked; I was in shock at what was happening, and the Rottweiler was starting to growl at me. He grabbed me by the back of the neck, I could feel his teeth poking into my skin. He was sending me the message to hold still and not move, So I froze and stopped struggling.

I held perfectly still with tears running down my face as the Rottweiler’s penis was poking wildly at me.

Then Suddenly, as I felt the tip of the dog’s penis slide up the inside of my thigh, I squealed and cried profusely, as I felt the tip of the dog’s penis go between my pussy lips with tears running down my face, I cried out, “OOH NOOOO PLEEEEEASE NO!” as I held perfectly still. The dog’s penis slid into my entrance the dog started fucking me. His penis slid in and out the entrance fast and furiously.

The dog’s penis started to grow inside of me slowly; I could feel it quickly getting thicker and longer; it was going deeper inside me. I squealed like a piglet as my little pussy started to stretch to accommodate the dog’s penis that was rapidly swelling, It felt so large, and it was still growing. I have never had a penis in me that large before.

I cried and cried, as he was fucking me with no mercy, breathing heavily with tears running down my face; I held my head up, looking straight ahead, seeing in the mirror the Rottweiler mounted on the back of me, fucking me. The dog was fucking me fast and furiously like a jackhammer, showing me no mercy. Repeatedly, I started loudly crying out, “OH OH OH OH!” from the force of how hard and fast his penis was thrusting in and out of me.

The room was filled with the sound of Janice crying as the dog raped her and the Rottweiler slapping against my pale white little round ass, and the sound of me repeatedly crying out loud, “OH OH OH OH!” as he jackhammered my little pussy. The dog’s penis had grown enormously; it felt humongous; I could feel the tip of the dog’s penis slamming quickly, like a jackhammer, against my cervix.

Then I thought to myself, “Oh no this can’t be happening,” the dog’s penis was rubbing against my G-spot. I felt it building like a runaway freight train, I tried to fight it, “AAHHHH OOOOH NOoooo!” I squealed out and threw my head back, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Like a tsunami, overwhelming me, my body started to shake, and my pussy muscles started Contracting around the dog’s penis as I exploded into an orgasm like a meteorite hitting the earth. I screamed out no I can’t. From the sounds beside me, I knew Janice was having the same experience. She was crying out as her dog’s penis gave her an unwelcome orgasm.

I started to feel something large and hard slapping against my pussy lips, the dog gave a couple more thrusts. Then something large and round pushed into the entrance of my pussy, my little pussy parted for what felt like, a very large orange entering me, as I started coming down from orgasming. I was breathing heavily; my body was shaking, and the dog went motionless and whimpering. He just laid on top of my back, I could feel the dog ejaculating, his very warm semen into me. It was very much warmer than a man’s semen, I could feel the dog’s large balls throbbing against the inside of my thigh. The Rottweiler had just completed raping me, I was sick all over the floor at the depravity of what had happened. As a second dog mounted me, I was so scared I shit myself.

Janice and I had to kneel there and let the dogs have their way with us there was no escape. The assault by the dogs went on for hours. The Rottweiler seemed to have a massive appetite for sex with us it raped Janice twice and me a second time. I counted thirteen times I was fucked by those big dogs Janice must have a similar number of dog fucks.

Peter walked into the room, and the dogs left. Peter indicated a door: “There is a shower in there. Clean yourselves up together.” As soon as Peter spoke, my body and mind felt turned on at the idea of a shower with Janice. Peter grinned at us, and I thought that he must have something to do with my sudden feelings for Janice. All thoughts about the dogs were pushed to the back of my mind; my body and mind were looking forward to showering with Janice; I was becoming wet between the legs at the thought.

We walked into the shower room, where thick towels, shampoos, and shower gels were available. I noticed a camera in the corner of the room.

Janice stepped into the shower cubical and turned the water on at full blast. I stepped in behind Janice because I wanted her so much. Standing behind her, I wrapped my arms around her waist. Her response was immediately to turn around and kiss me full on the mouth. Our tongues met, and it seemed we couldn’t get enough of each other. “I have done this before with a woman, but you attract me,” I said, and we continued our new exploration of each other.

As my hands continued to play with her breasts, taking each nipple into my fingers and rolling them around, I felt Janice’s hands slowly move down my back and start to caress my ass. She was kneading my ass and grinding her pussy into mine. I couldn’t take it anymore and I knew I had to taste her pussy. I reluctantly took my mouth off her tits and knelt down in front of her. The water was running down my face, but I could tell that her pussy was wet and ready for my mouth. I slowly parted her lips and inhaled the smell of her. Teasing with my tongue, I slipped it into her pussy. I lapped at her cunt, her juices were flowing even more as she pushed my head harder into her pussy. As I was licking her clit, I stuck one finger into her hot hole. She gasped and said, “Keep going, more…more” I obliged. One more finger, then one more, all the while I am sucking on her hard clit. I can tell she’s about to cum, and I know one more finger will do the trick…a fourth finger, then finally my whole hand is pumping in and out, her juices are all over my hand. I hear her say “I’m cumming…ahahahahhhahahahhahahahhah” as her vaginal walls contract around my hand. I stay in her pussy for a while longer and try to lick up all her juices. But she has another idea. Janice pulled me to my feet, and we kissed again, tongues in each other’s mouths, hands running over each other’s bodies. Janice moved down, kissing and sucking on each of my nipples. She knelt and kissed my coarse pussy hair, then my thighs her hand went up the inside of my leg. I spread my legs as she fingered my cunt her mouth and tongue following her fingers into me. I could not hold on any longer and climaxed the climax lasted as Janice licked my juices in my cunt.

Janice stood we kissed and then washed every inch of each other’s body. We dried each other, then still naked, moved to the bed, kissing and twining our bodies around each other, each of us climaxing again. We were interrupted by the door opening. Peter, Wayne and Jo Pearson, who also worked at the college, entered the room.

Jo spoke, “One of you will be performing on stage, and one of you will work the back room. ” She turned to Janice, “You can perform on stage for the audience.” She turned to me, and you can pleasure some men in the back room. “No, we won’t let us go,” she swore at them. “Silence!” Commanded Jo. Janice stopped talking mid-sentence.

“Kneel down and give Wayne oral sex.” Janice looked shocked, but her body knelt down in front of Wayne. She pulled his trousers down and took his cock in her mouth, and started sucking and bobbing her head up and down on him. Wayne spoke, “Also, because of your outburst when at college, you will be showing a lot more people your naked body and attending the management meetings naked, and you will have sex with anybody who asks for it.” Peter then spoke, “In the college social room, the two of you will be putting on sex shows, and you will become lovers. The two of you will completely forget all about your time here, everything you have done at college, and everything you will be doing. Because of Janice’s outburst, you will both spend tomorrow morning at the stables having horses mount you and fuck you, and there is nothing either of the two of you can do about it as we control your minds and bodies. Our control will last for all your lives the only concession we make to you is that you will never remember the sex acts that you will be carrying out!”

While Peter was talking, Wayne blasted his cum into Janice’s mouth, and she swallowed it.

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Far down the path of degradation and blackmail, Laura, a lesbian, is now pregnant with her brother’s child and slave to his sexual whims.

Chapter 36
DOCUMENTING HER DEGRADATION

Much of Laura’s free time now was spent being photographed by Daniel. He had created a website for her called “Laura The Fake Lesbian” at lauradrinkspiss.com, and he had her record a video intro for it.

In the intro, she was topless, with her brother’s sperm visible on her tits and face. She spoke in a giggly, breathless bimbo voice, and said, “Hi, I’m Laura! I pretend to be a lesbian to make boys jealous, and I love the taste of my girlfriends’ cunts, but really my favourite thing is being raped by men. There’s nothing better than having a boy cum inside me while I scream and cry! Tasting sperm makes me happy and I love drinking piss. Why don’t you come inside my website and enjoy my degradation? I’m just a silly like fake lesbian and I want to make *you* happy.”

Part of Daniel’s goal for the website was a “full documentation of Laura’s degradation” – it would show Laura doing each and every slutty thing that might arouse a paying customer.

The first series of photography, therefore, was a set of photos for each outfit of clothing Laura wore. There was an initial process of throwing out any remaining clothes Laura had that Daniel didn’t agree were slutty enough for her, although there were few of those left. When he was done and had only a small collection of outfits left, they went through each one by one. Daniel would first photograph Laura wearing the outfit, pouting, preening, then get her to a striptease out of it, ending with her naked, spreading her pussy for the camera, and then masturbating. This was fairly standard porn site material. He did this for each of Laura’s outfits.

The next set of photos replaced Laura’s regular urination over the next few weeks. For each pair of panties Laura wore, he took video and photos of her wetting them, both as part of an outfit, and while wearing only underwear. She would blush as she pissed into her panties and Daniel filmed her.

In the last set, Laura started out naked, kneeling with the outfit piled betwen her legs. She would piss on the outfit, thoroughly soaking it with her urine, then dress it in, and end the set passionately kissing either Erica or Taylor in her piss-wet clothes.

Erica and Taylor got the same treatment during this period. Laura and Daniel both had fun with Taylor during her first weeks in the house. Laura would fuck Taylor while Erica watched, commenting on how Erica was more stupid than Taylor, less pretty than Taylor, less fun to rape than Taylor. Then she would give Taylor to Erica to play with, and watch her former girlfriend savagely take out her misery on the other girl, dominating Taylor, grinding her pussy against Taylor’s face, abusing Taylor’s cunt and clit for fun.

Daniel fucked Taylor almost non-stop. She was quite clearly not consenting to anything happening to her, but was equally obviously not going to resist or try to get help. Daniel had discovered there was nothing better than raping a pretty girl, and the more obviously rape it was the faster he orgasmed. He rarely came inside her without first making her cry.

When Laura had pissed on the last of her outfits and worn it for the camera, she thought this phase of the photography might stop. She was wrong. The next phase was to take all the same photo sets again – but in public. Daniel would drive the girls out to reasonably busy roads and perform the same stripteases while passing drivers watched. Sometimes people would pull over for a better look. Each of the girls got naked, spread their pussy, and masturbated multiple times while people watched.

And then they had to wet themselves in public in each outfit. These photos were taken at cafes, in public streets, in shopping malls, and he had the girls photograph each other for these so he would not need to be nearby and associate himself with the loose-bladdered sluts. He found the girls were almost embarassed to have to show such a clear public interest in a urinating girl as they were to be the ones wetting themselves. That continued into the final phase, as the girls undressed in public, knelt over their clothes, urinated on them, and then dressed again.

This public humiliation reduced Taylor to tears nearly every time. Erica simply performed her tasks obediently. Laura felt like she should cry, and she did blush, but mostly they just made her wet. That was the kind of slut she was, now.

The next series of photos were masturbations. He filmed each of the girls fingering their pussies around the house, in the back and front yards. Then he moved on to objects. Each of the girls were required to cum from every object in the house. He filmed them bouncing on the fixed dildos, then rubbing up against doorknobs, bench corners, bedposts. Each movable item in the house went into their cunts. Laura spent a long afternoon with her collection of flirty anime-girl figurines. One at a time each of the big-titted skimpily-dressed slut heroines was pushed up her fuckhole, their irregular shapes and hard edges causing new and interesting combinations of pain and pleasure each time. When she was done with the whole set, Daniel raped her, and left his cum in her cunt, and made her do the whole collection again, this time bathing them in his semen as she rammed them in and out of her rapetunnel. He made her put them back on the shelf still soaked in sperm and cunt juices, so that every time she saw them she’d remember what she’d done with them and how disgusting she was, and next to them he put a framed photo of one of them going into Laura’s dripping cunt, so visitors would know too – it was the one that looked most like Laura, big-titted and pink-haired and obviously a whore.

He had them masturbate in public too. In cars, on buses, in restaurants, on the road, while walking and jogging, at the beach, while shopping for clothes. He made it so that every place in Laura’s life, she had a memory of fucking her fingers in and out of her sopping wet cunt, and she had a memory of horrified disgusted strangers watching her do it, and those memories were recorded and kept on a website so that strangers could picture her fingering her cunt in any place of their choice.

Every dinnertime became a documentation opportunity too. He had the girls cook a different meal each night – naked of course – and photographed them eating it in a variety of ways. Eating it like a dog on all fours out of a dog bowl was the easiest way, of course, or being hand-fed by Daniel and nuzzling the morsels of food out of his open palm. But some nights he had them dip their tits in the food and then lick the food off their own tits or each others’ tits. Other times he had them push the food up their cunts and masturbate with it inside, then dig it out and eat it, or 69 each other and eat the food out of each other’s pussies. Not all the food was tasty, of course – he had them go through the degradations using cold bolognaise, spam, and then eventually wet, slimy chunks of dog food. Laura had a moment of self awareness about what she had become as she lay on her dining room table naked eating chunks of wet cunty dog food out of Erica’s fuckhole, and it horrified her, but at the same time it triggered an orgasm, and she bucked her cunt happily against Erica’s face and let the bad thoughts go away.

Eventually the food documentation progressed to even more degrading meals, and now each meal was required to involve piss or cum. Sometimes Daniel would ejaculate on their meals before they eat, leaving gooey sperm topping the dinner in front of them. Sometimes he would merely add pig cum that he had sourced from a local farmer. The girls would eat the spermy food, or smear it on their tits, or push it up their cunts, and he would photograph and video them. Other times he would just fuck their cunts and then have them add the food afterwards as his cum dripped from their pussies.

Likewise, he would piss on their food, or have them piss on their own food, or serve them a glass of warm piss to drink with dinner. During this time, he started a practice of beating their tits with a belt until they cried after any dinner that had not had piss added to it. Soon they came to prefer food with piss in it, and became nervous and skittish if they were forced to eat anything that didn’t taste of urine.

He taught them as they were sixty-nining food from each other’s cunts to piss into each other’s faces. This was easy for Laura – her sessions at the Mayim Clinic around this time had begun conditioning her to urinate on the face of any girl who was licking her cunt – and the other girls soon learned to do the same. One of Daniel’s favourite videos from this time showed Taylor and Erica naked on the dining room table, locked in a 69, moaning sluttily, eagerly licking dog food out of each other’s fuckholes while intermittently pissing. Laura sat to one side, pushing chunks of dog food into her pussy as she masturbated, then pulling them out and eating them. Afterwards she would lick up the puddle of piss on the table while repeatedly orgasming.

When it came time to move this part of the degradation to the public realm, the girls resisted. Daniel ended up having to buy a cattle prod, and repeatedly use it on their tits and cunts, until they tearfully agreed to do what they were told. Even in all this, it never occurred to any of the three girls to run away or fight back. By now they had accepted that their life would consist of abuse and sexual degradation and that other people would make decisions about what they would and would not do with their bodies.

And so it was that Laura and Taylor walked into a McDonald’s one morning wearing short skirts, high heels, sheer tit-hugging tops, and no underwear, with Erica following at a distance and taping. Their faces flushed with arousal, as they had just edged to the brink of orgasm in the car outside, the girls went to the counter and ordered Big Macs and took them to a booth.

In the booth they spread their legs and proceeded to push the hot, soft burgers up inside their cunts. Taylor was crying as she stuffed junk food into her twat in public. Laura, by contrast, orgasmed as she felt the bread and meat push into her fuckhole. Both girls began to masturbate, fingering their clit with one hand while fucking the food in and out of themselves with the other. As their arousal grew, they lifted their tops and exposed their tits to the restaurant, then they climbed up on the table, arranged themselves in a 69, and began to nuzzle the cunty food out of each other’s slut-nests.

A crowd was watching at this point in mixed disgust and arousal. People cheered for them, calling them sluts and whores, encouraging them to lez off with each other. Laura heard the sound of phone cameras snapping photos of the two whorish sluts licking each other out. It felt right to her, even as to a deeper part of her it felt so violatingly wrong. This was what lesbians were for, she knew – they were made to display themselves to men, to perform and degrade themselves for male pleasure. She was nothing but a fuckpuppet doing what came naturally to her.

She felt a splash of warmth on her face, and knew that Taylor had started to piss. Laura responded by relaxing her own bladder, and the two girls pissed into each other’s mouths as they ate sodden burger out of each other’s cunts and the crowd watched.

Both girls orgasmed several times during the degradation. When they were done eating, they cleaned up as Daniel had instructed them to – soaking up as much of the puddle of piss on the table as they could with their clothes, then rubbing their bare tits in it, then dipping their hair in it, before finally licking up the remainder with their tongues like good little sex kittens. They finally staggered out of the store, sodden and disgusting and flushed, and Erica drove them home.

In and around their other degradations, Daniel fucked them, of course. He raped each girl in each room of the house, in the car, in the yard, in public locations, taking care to cum in their mouth, on their face, in their face, on their tits, in their anus and of course in their cunt, filming it each time. Laura soon found it normal to be raped by her brother, to have her brother ejaculating inside her, to eat her brother’s cum out of her lover’s cunt or her slave’s cunt.

He documented the girls receiving pain, too. It started with each of the girls receiving a bare-handed spanking each day on her ass. Laura found it confusing – there was pain, but it also made her cunt soaking wet. It felt good. Some of it was the pain, and some of it was the position it put her in, bent over her brother’s lap, naked, a mixture of sextoy and helpless child. Taylor seemed to find sexual pleasure in it too. Erica merely submitted, allowing Daniel to use her without objection. When Daniel found the girl’s cunts wet at the end of the spanking he would usually fuck them. Sometimes he fucked them even if they weren’t wet.

Slowly Daniel moved on to paddles, and eventually a rattan cane. The cane left marks, even when he just lightly drummed it across their asses, and certainly when he struck them with it viciously. Laura almost always cried when he used the cane on her, and her ass was tender for days afterwards, but still her traitorous cunt got wet and still she orgasmed when he raped her afterwards. And all of it was videotaped and uploaded to her website.

Once the girls had gotten used to the pain of the cane on their ass, he started on their tits. He would make the girls kneel nude, either offering up their tits with their hands, or with their arms behind their back and their tits jutting forwards, and then he would beat their tits. Again, he started with his hands, and then moved to a leather belt and then the cane. He made them masturbate through the cane the first few times but afterwards he found their cunts would juice up without stimulation and at that point he wouldn’t let them touch themselves anymore. Laura deliberately thought her sluttiest thoughts as the cane left red welts on her boobs, because the pain was so much more enjoyable when she was horny than when she wasn’t. The endorphins made having her udders abused almost fun.

After the tits came their cunts. He would get them sopping wet and then spread their legs and beat their pussies. The cane hurt here worst of all – he took a special pride in landing the cane directly between their labia, right on the nub of their clitoris. From the point this abuse began, Laura almost always had raised welts on her vagina, which made the inevitable subsequent rape excruciating.

And always, of course, after every abuse, the girls would thank him. Laura did this by instinct. “Thank you for making me cry from the pain in my slutty whore’s cunt,” she would babble. “Thank you for hurting my wet lesbian twat for your pleasure, just like I deserve.” The other girls had to be taught, but the cane was a good teacher, and soon they had just the same instincts as Laura.

The spankings were not the only pain Daniel gave them. The girls learned that if they displeased him they would get a sharp slap across the face. They learned that being slapped was a normal thing that happened to sluts like them, and that it was an appropriate way for a man to tell them that they were disappointing.

He also got extensive use out of the cattle prod. A quick zap to a girl’s tits or cunt was usually enough to get their obedience. When a girl had really displeased them, he made them fuck the tip of the prod, sliding it in and out of their pussy, in a terrified mixture of fear and arousal. When they orgasmed, he would discharge the prod into their twats just as they came. If they took too long to orgasm, he would discharge it for longer, and several times. The girls learned to fear their own orgasms, but also fear taking too long to cum. The mixture of desperation and confusion on their faces made the prod-fuckings some of the most popular videos on Laura’s site.

The best part, of course, was making Laura watch the videos of Taylor and Erica fucking the cattle prod at the same time as she was fucking it herself. Watching the other girls cry as the cattle prod raped their twats made Laura sopping wet, and when she watched them orgasm and heard them scream as the electricity discharged into their orgasming fuckholes, it made her orgasm herself, and then immediately receive exactly the same pain.

And she knew she deserved it, for being the kind of perverted lesbian slut who got aroused by watching this happen to other girls, and she knew she should be grateful for the pain, and she babbled her gratitude to Daniel, thanking him for shocking her pussy, for degrading her, for making her cry, and her brother acknowledged her gratitude by leaning in towards her, kissing her on her stupid lips, squeezing her big stupid whore udders until they hurt, and then gently starting to rape her…

(To be continued…)

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The Devil’s Pact
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2013

The Devil’s Pact Side Story: Mary and Diane in the Bathroom

Note: This takes place in Chapter 6 while Mark and Mary are eating dinner at the Japanese Steakhouse.

There were still hours to kill before I made my Pact with the Devil, tonight. And I was nervous as hell.

Mark suggested Samurai’s Japanese Steakhouse out on Mountain Highway in Spanaway as a pleasant way to take my mind off my worries. The closer to midnight the worst my nerves became. I didn’t think I could eat, but it sounded better than doing nothing. On the outside, the restaurant resemble nothing more than a warehouse. Between the corrugated metal walls and a tin roof made me stare at Mark as if he was crazy. This couldn’t be a nice restaurant. Or even a clean one.

“C’mon, Mare,” Mark said.

Mare was his pet name for me. It was somehow a diminutive of Mary. As if Mary could get any shorter. I mean Mare even has just as many letters. But, I liked it when he called me Mare. And filly, the name he called me when we’re getting frisky. It made me feel like I was wild horse, running free and only a mighty stallion could tame me. I was still struggling to find a nickname for Mark. In bed, I called him my big stallion. But you couldn’t call someone that in public. So I just called him Mark.

Inside the restaurant you wouldn’t know its part of a shitty warehouse. Rice paper walls and dark wood made it seem like a traditional Japanese house. The art on the walls were reproduction Japanese woodcarvings and watercolor painting. Simple, austere pieces of birds, flowers, waterfalls, or Mt. Fuji with a Haiku written in Japanese characters down the side. The waitresses were dressed in simple kimonos, black, with red flowers and cinched with red, wide sashes tied in elaborate bows at the small of the back.

The waitress led us to a circular table with a black, flat grill in the center. Another couple was already sitting there; a boorish man, short and round, his black hair greased back and dressed in an ill fitting, gray suit and red silk shirt without a tie. His date was a very attractive woman, porcelain face surrounded by black ringlets of hair. Her lips were pouty and begging to be kissed, covered in a dark red lipstick. She wore a sleek red dress, fitting tightly to her curves and falling to her ankles. There was a slit up the right side and her gorgeous right leg was clad in black, thigh-high fishnet and held up by a lacy garter belt. With her legs crossed, her right leg was proudly displayed through the slit. She turned as I set down next to her, eyes lighting up with interest. The dress was low cut, with a dipping oval cutout that exposed the snowy curves of her breasts. A ruby encrusted, silver pendant nestled in her cleavage.

“Hi, I’m Diane,” she said, warmly.

“I’m Mary and this is my boyfriend, Mark,” I introduced, smiling warmly at Diane.

“I’m Keith,” the boorish man said. He started to say something, when his phone started to ring. Without even excusing himself, he answered the phone, turning away from Diane and talking quietly.

“That’s the second time he’s done that,” Diane complained to me.

“Have you been dating long?” I asked.

She shook her head. “First date, and let me tell you it’ll be the last one. I think I’m done with online dating for a while.”

I giggled. “Well, I’ll keep you company, anyway,” I said, adjusting my posture to emphasize my chest in the white, corset dress I was wearing. I saw her eyes flicker down at my cleavage for a moment and a ghost of smile play on her red lips.

Keith hung up the phone and immediately started badgering Mark about sports, mainly the Seattle Seahawks. Mark clearly wasn’t a sports guy, unlike my ex-boyfriend, Mike, and he muddled along as best he could. Keith didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care, and started going in on a tirade about how this year the Seahawks were going to the Super Ball and that the refs better screw them over like last time. Not once did Keith acknowledge his date at all. What an asshole.

A waitress took our orders and a few minutes latter a Japanese chef arrived with a tray full of cooking supplies. He oiled the grill and started impressively dicing the meat and vegetables, tossing food into the air. He was quite talented, making funny jokes. It was clearly a well rehearsed and pretty impressive performance. He somehow sliced an onion and stacked it into a cone with some amazingly fast knifework, and then steam started to pour out the top, like a little onion volcano. I clapped my hands, delightedly, and then set one causally on Diane’s thigh.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Diane smile at me, grabbing a piece of grilled meat with her chopsticks and popping it into her mouth. Mark saw my hand on her thigh and winked at me, squeezing my own thigh supportively. Diane shifted in her seat causing my hand to slip down between her thighs; she smiled even more broadly.

Feeling real bold, I turned towards Diane, allowing my short skirt to ride up and spread my legs, flashing my naked pussy at her. Diane held up a piece of meat on her chopsticks and said, “You just have to try this.” As she brought it to my lips, her other hand slipped down and rubbed deliciously at my vulva for a moment and I moaned appreciatively. Her finger’s came away damp and she licked them, savoring my flavor.

“I gotta use the restroom,” Diane said, causally. Her date was on his phone for the third time and didn’t seem to even hear her.

“I’ll join you,” I answered, just as causally.

I kissed Mark as I rose and he whispered, “Have fun.” Mark was a great guy, very understanding. I’m glad I decided to stay with him.

In the bathroom, Diane wasted no time, pushing me up against the counter and plunging her tongue into my mouth. I sat up on the counter and wrapped my legs around her hips, my skirt riding up. I shoved my hand down her blouse and played with her firm, naked breast and hard nipple. I felt her nipple and marveled at how fat it was as I rolled it between my fingers. Diane loosened the laces on my corset and my breast popped out and she bent down, kissing my freckled orbs and then sucking one of my tiny, dusky nipples into her mouth. Her lips were firm and gentle she felts so good nursing my tit.

There was a gasp and we froze, my nipple in Diane’s lips, my hand down her blouse, as one of the waitress walked in. Her olive skinned flushed and she looked down at the floor and quickly walked into the stall. Their was the rustle of fabric and then she started peeing. I was disturbed by how erotic the sound was and was glad Diane started sucking at my nipple again, distracting me.

“Are you always this eager to fuck strange women in a bathroom?” I asked as she stroked my thigh.

“When I go clubbing, I love fucking strange women in the bathroom,” she moaned and then sucked my other nipple into her mouth.

“What about your date?” I asked, confused.

“I’m bi,” she answered. “Girls are fun, but I prefer men for long-term relationships.” She slid down and spread my thighs and licked up my wet slit. “What about you? You left your date quick enough.”

I thought for a moment and realized that I was bisexual as well, all Mark’s doing. “Mark knows what we’re doing,” I answered. “He likes watching me with other women. Sometimes we share them or watch each other. It’s so hot!”

There was a soft moan from the stall. I smiled, realizing the waitress was masturbating.

“Wow, wish I had a guy that special,” Diane said, then stuck her tongue deep into my pussy

“Lick my clit, you fucking slut!” I moaned, wanting the waitress to know what was going on. “Eat my pussy, you nasty whore.” Diane seemed to like the dirty names, because her tongue was really digging into my pussy. I shuddered on her face when she suddenly nipped my clit. “Oh, you’re making me cum! Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I gripped her curly, black hair and flooded her mouth with my juices.

Diane stood up, face smeared with my juices. I kissed her, enjoying my musk on her lips, spicy and sweet. “God, you’re a squirter,” Diane said, breathlessly.

“Fuck, you know your way around a pussy!” I panted and she smiled, proudly.

I pushed Diane back against a tiled wall and slid down, pushing her skirt to the side to find her a lacy, black thong. I pulled it off and her pussy was covered by curly, black hair, neatly trimmed, her pussy wet and pink at the center. She smelled tangy and sweet and I ran my tongue through the forest of black hair and across her juicy labia. She tasted heavenly.

“Ohh, you’re tongue is nice, cuntrag!” Diane moaned. “Eat my sloppy pussy until I cum all over your slutty face!”

There was another muffled groan from the waitress in the stall as I dug my tongue deep into the warm wetness of her pussy. My hands gripped her firm ass, pulling her had against my mouth, stuffing my tongue as deep as I could inside her. She writhed, fucking herself on my tongue, smearing juices all over my face.

“God, you’re a good muff diver!” Diane moaned. “Fuck that nasty tongue up my twat, you fucking cuntrag!”

She grabbed my hair and ground her pussy on my face, using me as a fucktoy. It was so nasty, and my own snatch getting itchy again. I slipped a finger down and started fingering my own pussy, digging in deeply and searching for my G-Spot. Diane was moaned wordlessly, shuddering on my face and her pussy contracting on my tongue. I found my G-Spot and joined Diane in a mind-numbing, shuddering orgasm.

“That was amazing!” she purred, letting go of my hair. I stumbled back, falling spread leg on the floor.

“Yeah!” I stood up, brushing dirt from my ass and stumbled to the sink, my legs weak from my intense orgasm.

I turned on a faucet and started to rinse the pussy juices off my nose and cheeks, leaving some on my lips for Mark to taste. Diane joined me, she looked just as messy as I did. The toilet flushed and the waitress slowly walked out, flushed and breathless. There was a shy smile on her face and she washed her sticky fingers off in the third sink.

“We should get back,” I said. “Before your date misses you.”

Diane rolled her eyes. “He’s probably still on the phone. Christ, what a dick!”

The waitress snorted in laughter and we eyed her. She looked shyly away and finished washing her hands and walked out of the bathroom.

“We should do this again,” I suggested, watching the waitress’s shapely ass through the kimono before she disappeared through the door

“Yeah, I’ll take you to this hot club, the Clam Diver and we’ll have a lot of fun in the bathroom,” she said. “No boyfriends, though, it’s a girls only kinda place.”

“Sure, sounds fun.” We swapped phone numbers, kissed one last time.

Keith was still on the phone and hardly noticed that Diane returned. Mark stood up and I kissed him, letting him taste Diane’s delicious cunt. “Thank you,” I whispered as he held out my chair, like a gentleman.

Mark smiled. “You seemed more relaxed.”

I speared a slice of steak and realized as I chewed that Mark was right. I felt more relaxed. I was having so much fun with Diane that I completely forgot about the fact I was about to sell my soul to the Devil. Diane was very a special woman and I wondered what are next liaison would be like. I smiled and speared some diced vegetables and popped them into my mouth.

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Three best friends fuck each other. ‘Nuff said.

I got bored. This story may or may not get a chapter or part next. So… yeah.

:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’:’

I ran my fingers through my best friend Cody’s sandy blonde hair and smiled at him. “Ungh… Paris… Milan… Please, stop… I… I can’t take it anymore. Please.” He said through pants. He squirmed against mine and Paris’ grip. “Cody babe. As you wish. There will be days like this in the future, and days where Paris and I do as we wish with you.” I whispered in his ear before nibbling on his earlobe. I traced my finger nail around his nipple and he shivered.

Paris licked and nibbled on his other one as she rubbed her slit up and down his cock. I gently nudged Paris away and straddled Cody’s waist. I kept my grip on his wrists above his head. I leaned down and my hips raised a little. “Cody. We’ve done this before.” I said before I crashed my lips with his soft pink ones. He moaned into the kiss and I felt his hips thrust up.

He dragged his tongue across my bottom lip, asking for entrance which I gladly gave him. His warm tongue slid into my mouth. My hand involuntarily caressed his cheek. Okay, so maybe Cody was a bit more than a best friend. He wasn’t anything relationship-y either. Just somewhere in the middle.

My grip on his wrists wavered and he took advantage of that to slip a hand out. His hand immediately went to work on my pussy. A small squeal escaped my lips at the sudden touch. His fingers smoothly slipped in and out of me. That’s how wet he gets me when we do these things.

Then, I felt two hands kneading my ass. Paris. I knew it just by the french tips. Yep, Paris and I are bi. Cody’s straight as an arrow. Cody groaned from under me and I could tell that Paris was riding him. Cody and I had to break apart for air. If I could’ve stayed longer, I would’ve. I swear, that boy has a magic tongue.

I got off of Cody and let his hand go. His other one was still working my pussy furiously. I gladly spread my legs wide so he would get better access. When his finger nail scratched over my clit, that was enough to put me over the edge. I shook slightly and moaned as Paris leaned over and drank all my juices. Paris was the sluttier one.

I heard Paris give out a few short screams in between pants as she came. The girl was still new to sex. Lost her v-card a couple months ago. Cody pulled his fingers out of my pussy and worked Paris’. She let out a small excited scream. Yup, Cody knows how to finger good.

Paris got off of him without pulling his fingers out of her. Cody’s dick lay limp. I sucked on it and jacked it a few times until he was hard again. I lowered myself onto him, savoring the feeling. “Aah.” I sighed as I got all of him in me. Cody got a firm grip on my waist and started pounding into me. I bit down on my lower lip and tilted my head back as I groaned.

“Faster, Cody! Faster!” Paris squeaked. Cody obeyed and fingered her so fast, his hand was a blur. Paris shook after a while and screamed again in between pants. She got off of his hand and sucked on his fingers eagerly.

I ran my hands up and down Cody’s bare torso. “You girls are uncontrollable.” Cody said in his british accent. “Glad to know.” I replied. I reached down and rubbed my clit in slow circles. As I was about to cum, Paris pushed me off. “Get your own dick, Mil.” She teased and laughed. I shot her a glare before trying to finish myself off. I couldn’t. Only Cody knows how to make me cum. Hell, only he knows my sensitive spots.

Cody saw me struggling and he gently pulled my hand from my pussy. “Come here, Mil. I’ll finish you off.” He softly pulled me towards him. I obeyed and kissed his pink lips. “That’s not what I meant.” He said, pushing me back slighty. I furrowed my eyebrows and he chuckled. “Come on. You know what I mean, hon.” His hands rested on my ass and pulled me up.

When I was hovering over his face, I caught up to what he meant. “Ohh.” I nodded. I slowly lowered myself down onto his waiting mouth. I was about an inch or two away when he grabbed my thighs and pulled me down quickly. The second I came in contact with him, his tongue darted into my pussy. “Ah!” I squeaked. I looked down at what I could see of his face. I ran my hand through his silky sandy blonde hair that was dyed a dark blue at the tips. Under those closed eyelids, I knew sat the perfect pair of eyes.

A bright teal shade the color of a perfect beach. With a few silver/grey specks here and there. A few freckles scattered across his nose. And right in between my legs, were the perfect, pinkest cupid bow lips. Cody was nearly perfect. His eyes fluttered open and stared back into mine. I smiled down at him and ran a hand through his hair again. His eye lids drooped half closed and a moan escaped his mouth, sending waves of pleasure through my body. He was cumming.

Paris moaned, too. Probably cumming along. Cody kept moaning and groaning, sending shocks up my spine. He gave me one last hard, posessive, dominitive, and lustful lick. Flicking his pierced tongue on my clit before sucking the hell out of me. A scream errupted from my lips as my juice all got sucked by one of my best friends.

I rolled off of him and layed on my back beside Cody. Our breaths came out in pants. I felt Cody’s hand slip into mine. I looked over at him and smiled. He smiled back and blew air into my face, putting the stray strand of hair that went onto my face. Paris got up and went into the bathroom. A few moments later, the shower was running. Oh great. That girl’s shower sessions takes forever.

Cody wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. He started placing soft open-mouthed kisses on my neck. A small sigh escaped my lips. “Will you be mine, Mil?” He asked against my neck. I pulled away to be able to see his face. He had his lips rolled into his mouth and he had a pleading look on his face.

I ran a hand through my naturally dark blue hair and rolled my purple with a hint of grey eyes. I had a harmless rare disease that made my hair and eyes that color. “I’d love to, Cody.” I smiled and kissed him. He froze for two seconds until he responded to the kiss. He tightened his hold around me, deepening the kiss. I traced his nipple with my finger nail and he moaned. His hard cock was pressing against my inner thigh.

A throat cleared and we immediately pulled away from each other. Paris stood there, a towel wrapped around her hair, wearing nothing else. “Care to explain?” She quirked an eyebrow at us. Her bright green eyes full of curiosity. We never started without her. “We’re going out now, Ris.” I explained, holding mine and Cody’s interlocked fingers. A wide grin spread on her face.

“YES! Finally! The hormone filled sexual air every time we go out in public was killing me!” She ran over to us and pulled me and Cody into a hug, causing Cody and I to let go of each other. Cody chuckled and slapped her ass. Paris immediately let go and payfully glared at him. “Now what?” She asked us, sitting on the bed.

Cody and I looked at each other. I felt his hand rubbing my thigh, getting closer to my pussy every time. He finally reached it and slowly dragged a finger up and down my slit. I flopped back down on the bed, my legs partly open, my feet hanging off the side while Cody sat there, fingering me.

“Round two?” Cody offered. I got myself up on my elbows. I nudged Cody’s hand away. Paris and I shared a knowing look. We looked back at Cody and literally pounced on him. I stroked his cock gently and licked up the underside. Paris was playing with his nipples. Cody had his middle fingers buried deep in our pussies.

“Oh, I love you girls.” Cody groaned.

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